Tucked In
by In Hiding
Summary: A subtle exploration of friendship, of affection, of promises made and intended to be kept, of mistakes and apologies, of Rose and the Doctor, of falling in love, and of going to bed. [Rose/Ninth Doctor, Rose/Tenth Doctor. A series of one-shots primarily filling in the gaps of the season one and two canon.]
1. Good Intentions

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Nine  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place sometime after "Father's Day" (1x8) and before "The Empty Child" (1x9). No significant spoilers.  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>We start with the Doctor's innocent mistake that sparks Rose's misery and fans her mother's fury. We end tucked in.

* * *

><p>"I'll be back; just going to run out and grab a paper real quick."<p>

"Desperate for a taste of current events, are we?"

"Just want to know if I need to shop the "belated" section when I pick up my mum's birthday card," Rose called with a laugh, halfway out the TARDIS door.

10 minutes later she returned with a paper and a smile. "Well done, Doctor. Right on schedule!"

He didn't blame her for double checking, as the TARDIS tended to be a bit temperamental about timing arrivals and had caused more than a bit of trouble for Rose with her mother before. He glanced over her shoulder as he walked past; she was thumbing through the entertainment section. "Looking for something in particular?"

"Yeah - show times. I missed the 4th Harry Potter while you and I have been gone. It's long out of the regular cinemas by now, but when we chatted last mum said the old place near the Estate was playing it again and she wanted us to go."

"Ah," he said noncommittally, humming as he tinkered with the console.

"You can come with, you know. Should be a good show."

"Nah - seen it already. Seen most of 'em, actually. Didn't really fancy them."

She raised an eyebrow incredulously. "What, are you mental? Did you at least read the books?"

"For your information, Rose Tyler, I've had a wealth of literature to choose from over the years... from this planet and many others. Harry Potter wasn't exactly high on my list of must-reads."

"Oh, but they're fabulous! I suppose I'm one behind now; came out since I've been away. Maybe once the series is done I'll ask mum to get it for me. Then we'll have to take a bit of a vacation from "danger and intrigue" so I can get caught up."

"As you say." Still tinkering. "You'll be needing some money, I suppose."

It hadn't occurred to her to ask. "What's this now?" she laughed. "Am I to be a kept woman?"

"Consider it an allowance for saving the world a bit." He left the room for a moment and came back with a large roll of cash.

"I don't know how much you think a show costs in this century..." she began.

"Figured you'd want to grab some dinner and maybe do some shopping while you're out. Plus there's that non-belated card you've got to pick up." He grinned at her, all goofy ears and dancing eyes.

She grinned back, then paused. "You sure you don't wanna come with?"

"Nah, you girls go enjoy your Potter while I putter."

"Okay. But no having any adventures without me, yeah?"

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Money in her pocket and a pack of dirty laundry on her back, she was off.

And for awhile the Doctor did putter, but if didn't take long for him to get the "itch" - not for the adventure he'd been banned from until her return, but for her return itself. He'd grown rather unaccustomed to being without her. It also didn't take long for him to think of a way to fill some time. And since he didn't plan for it to be very adventurous, he thought she wouldn't mind if he just popped forward a few years and then came right back.

He set his return to night, not wanting to have to wait. They should have been back from the movies by then. The Doctor locked the TARDIS and whistled as he walked through the dark alley, then sang. It was a good day. A good night. And Rose would love what he'd done when she found out.

He was still singing as he knocked on the door. "Happy birthday, lovely Jackie!" he said with a little bow, producing a grand bouquet from behind his back with a flourish.

He wasn't sure exactly what kind of response he had expected; he knew full well that at least a part of Jackie hated him for taking her daughter from her. But her frown and her venom were definitely undampened by his tone and his gift. And the stinging slap was a bit of a shock.

"Bit late on that one, don't you think?"

His eyes narrowed as he brought a hand to his face. "Beg pardon?"

"Best be saving those flowers for Rose. Though I doubt they'll do you much good."

He was lost. He stepped through the door when she reluctantly moved aside to let him pass. "She's in her room. I've half a mind to tell you to turn around and never come back, but the way she's carrying on..."

He followed her through the apartment and let her push open the door. Rose was laying on her bed, facing away from him. And she was sobbing nearly uncontrollably.

"Good heavens!" the Doctor exclaimed. "What on earth is the matter?"

Rose didn't respond. She hadn't heard him over the music blasting in her headphones. For awhile it had distracted her, but then on had come a song that reminded her of him, and she was back to this again.

"Been like this on and off for the full three weeks. I hope you're quite pleased with yourself."

"Three weeks? Oh, bloody hell." He dropped the flowers on the bed and sat down beside them, putting a tentative hand on her shoulder, sliding it down to her back.

"I'm fine, mum," she snuffed, completely unconvincing. "Really. Just go to bed. Sorry I woke you."

He tugged out one earphone, gently. "Rose..."

The room lit only by the light coming from the hall, the worst of it was hidden from him. But as she bolted upright and whipped around to face him, he could still make out the tear stains, the puffy eyes. And the anger. He should have been ready for this slap, but even if he had been, he would have let her land it. He did deserve it, after all.

He barely had time to register the sting before she freed herself from the covers and threw herself at him. He held her close, settled her on his lap, whispered "I'm so sorry" over and over.

It didn't take long for the tears to stop. Despite her mother's continuous re-hydration efforts, Rose had few tears left. "You went away," she said quietly, pitifully. "I tried to tell myself you were just late, but...I thought you'd left me behind."

The Doctor was rather dumbstruck. He'd assumed she'd thought he'd gotten himself into some trouble. It hadn't occurred to him she'd ever think he'd just abandon her. His reply was a little rawer, a little fiercer, than he intended. But it was real. "Rose Tyler, I will never leave you behind." He paused. "I just -"

"No, wait." She grabbed a new tissue and swiped at her nose, her eyes. Like a child. "Just wait."

"What?"

A deep, steadying breath. A loud exhale. "Say it again."

"What, now?"

"Just - " A frustrated noise. "Just, say it again."

"I will never leave you behind?"

"Yes." Obviously feeling sheepish now. But pressing on. "Again."

He grinned. "I promise I will never leave you behind." This invoked a smile. "But as I've proven a few times now, I may occasionally be a little late."

Jackie, still in the doorway, cleared her throat. "I'll, ah - I'll make us some tea."

"That would be fantastic, Jackie. Thank you," the Doctor said, not turning, not caring.

Rose barely heard her. It didn't matter. The Doctor was back. He hadn't left her. She shifted to her knees, wrapped her arms around him properly, her chin on his shoulder. "Those flowers for me?" she asked rather glibly, and she could feel her spirit returning.

"They were meant for your mum. I WAS hoping to win some points with them."

"Yeah. Didn't work out for you, I imagine."

There she was. He grinned again, excited now for what he'd done. "I did get you a gift, though. It's back on the TARDIS. That's actually the reason I popped out; it wasn't something I could pick up here."

"Really?" She sat back down, extricated herself from him, knowing she must look a fright but refusing to care, trusting the darkness. "And it took you three weeks?"

"Well, no. It took me about three hours, if you count the wrapping and the stop at the flower shop and the bit of dawdling built in. But I intended to be back in time to meet you for chips after the movie. How was it, by the way?"

"Brilliant," she said offhandedly. "So, what? You got attacked by the Slitheen and held captive and only just now broke away?"

"Why, that's exactly right. So I'm forgiven?"

She rolled her eyes. "You would be if you weren't a bloody Time Lord travelling in a TIME MACHINE."

"I'm afraid it all boils down to technical difficulties," he admitted, hoping his sincerity offset the ridiculousness of the mistake. "I set the return for the night I dropped you off. The TARDIS apparently had other ideas. As you well know, she tends to do that."

"You should have ran out and got a paper," she said calmly, helpfully.

"We'll consider that policy from now on." And they both dissolved into laughter, equally relieved but for very different reasons.

Jackie knocked softly, though had been hanging round long enough to hear his explanation. "Tea's on." She reached for the light, but Rose asked her to stop.

"How about I get cleaned up before anyone need behold my beauty 'neath the harsh fluorescents," she jested in her best old English. Oh, yes. Her spirit was definitely returning. "Let me grab a shower and I'll be right out to join you." With that, she fled the room.

The Doctor's departure was much slower and more reluctant. He didn't begrudge Rose the chance to put herself to rights, but to be left alone with her angry mother over tea was more troubling to him in that moment than the prospect of a Dalek army invasion.

"I suppose all's forgiven then," Jackie began as soon as he came into view, gesturing to the tea pot and handing him a mug.

"I suppose," he answered neutrally, knowing better than to offer excuse.

She turned her back on him, picking up the phone. "Ordering my daughter some chips. I suppose you'll want some."

"I suppose," he said again, pouring, not liking the way she stressed "my daughter".

She'd barely hung up when she took aim with both barrels. "You near broke her heart, you get that, yeah? And she may buy into your little speeches, but she's still a little girl and her heart hasn't been broke enough yet to know that a man's promise of "never" and "forever" don't mean a bloody thing."

"Jackie - "

"Don't you dare "Jackie" me, you! She's still a child and you're a grown man with no business making her promises." She ignored the cup he'd prepared for her and pressed past him, the "follow me" clear enough. He abandoned his tea and trailed behind as she strode to Rose's room and began removing the signs of the girl's anguish - collecting used tissues, filling the laundry basket with discarded clothes from the floor, stripping the bed and making him help put the new sheets in place. All the while, her tirade continued. She went on and on about how he had no business making promises, no business putting her in danger, no business ever asking her to follow him. Finally let him have it about the time he'd returned Rose a year late, poured out all her anger and anguished she'd felt when she thought Rose was missing or worse, livid that he would then put Rose though the very same. He was given no opportunity to defend, and he wouldn't have taken one anyway. Best to let her get it out. And in many ways he owed it to her.

Eventually, she ran out of breath, out of words, out of steam. "Where's my tea?" she inquired absently.

"I'll fix you a fresh cup." And he did, as she sat heavily in a living room chair. The task done, he handed her the mug and sat across from her, sensing that it was now his turn. "Jackie, I'm sorry." He surprised himself by saying it, and even more by meaning it. "I don't know what else I can say. I'm just... so, so sorry."

She looked up with a heavy sigh. "I believe you. And I believe you care for her. And if I didn't know that she cared for you, after seeing her these last weeks I could never doubt it." A sip, a beat. "And I know there's nothing I can do. She's a little girl, but she's not. She knows her mind, and she won't let me change it." The fury had left. Now came the hint of tears. "So what's a mother to do, eh Doctor? When her only daughter is traipsing around all time and space with an alien in a tiny wooden box?"

"It's bigger on the inside," he supplied evenly.

"Yes, 'tis." Another sigh. "So what am I to do?" They sat in silence for a long moment as both reflected on the unanswerable question, until the doorbell interrupted. "That'll be the chips."

"Let me." He was already on his feet, fishing money out of his pocket, left over from his shopping excursion. He paid the delivery boy and added a hefty tip, then brought the greasy paper bag into the kitchen and divided up the spoils into three. She met him there and dug in the fridge for the ketchup, took it and a plate to the table. He joined her.

Rose was walking through the living room in a towel and popped her head in, drawn by the smell. "Oh, did you order chips? That's brilliant! Just give me a sec."

"Well, that ought to get her here quick enough. Otherwise she'd have been another hour getting all dolled up for you."

"Nah," he denied, mouth full. "I think we're beyond that."

"Maybe." She was picking at her food. "So you'll be taking off tonight, I guess." She avoid his eyes, kept her tone light, and he heard the defeat there.

"There's no rush. I'm in no hurry." A small lie.

"Well, I expect Rose will be anxious to get back on the road, so to speak."

"Yes, I expect she will. But we'll chat about it after a good night's sleep." He reached across the table and touched her arm briefly. "We can all chat about it. And we'll chat about plans for our next visit, too."

She recognized what he offered for what it was: the consolation prize. But now that she'd expressed all her anger, she was resigned to accept it in good faith.

Rose returned then, wearing a worn bathrobe and her wet hair clipped high on her head. And while her mother could still see the evidence of her three weeks of worry, she could also see that life had returned. She was light, alert, and - bless her - happy. She lit into her chips like she hadn't eaten in days (and for all intents and purposes, she really hadn't).

"So what have you two been going on about?"

"Not a thing, my love," her mother answered with a sad smile, and pushed the remainder of her chips onto Rose's plate. "That's it for me. I'll leave you to it." She kissed the top of Rose's head, squeezed the Doctor's arm before bringing her plate to the sink. "I'll put out some things for you, Doctor, if you want to make up the couch."

"That's not necessary, Jackie, but thanks." He smiled at her, warmly, trying to communicate much more. "I'll probably make my way to the TARDIS for the night."

"You'll do no such thing!" Rose exclaimed. "I'm not letting you out of my sight!" She grinned brightly. "I'll get him sorted out, mum. Not to worry."

"I've no doubt of that. Good night to you both."

"So what did you really talk about?" Rose asked, leaning in and lowering her voice. "Did she give it to you?"

"No," he lied. "But we may have reached a bit of an understanding. Or, I should say, she kind of reached it on her own."

She looked at him curiously, trying to interpret, but chose to say nothing. She was just happy he was there.

They made quick work of the food, and then she took him by the hand and led him back to her room. "Now, if I let you go to the TARDIS to grab a bag, you won't get it in your head to pop out to the 29th Century for a pack of smokes or the like, now, will you?" She was at the mirror trying to deal with her hair, and her reflection smiled at him.

"Seriously, Rose, you know I don't sleep much. And the prospect of a night NOT sleeping on your couch is not that appealing."

"Well, you'll just have to suffer through it," she declared easily, with no hint of humour now. "I meant what I said. Consider yourself on a short leash for the time being." She gestured for him to turn so she could dress, and he did so. "This is not a negotiation, so you may as well just surrender."

He was rather taken aback by her forcefulness, but he preferred it over the anger he deserved. He couldn't let the opportunity to tease a bit escape him, however. "Fine, fine, you win. But no funny business, hear? And no talking my ear off all night, either, regaling me of all your adventures from my absence."

She made a noise. "Right. Well, that would be a rather short regaling, so you needn't worry about that. And I decided in the shower I'm still too angry at you for any business of the "funny" variety to even be considered." She touched his shoulder to indicate it was safe for him to turn.

She was met with a wry grin. "So you were thinking about funny business in the shower, were you?"

She didn't bite. "Is my gift small enough to carry?" At this nod, she ordered, "Go get it, then. Back in 10 minutes or I sound the alarm." She pointed to the door with authority.

With a jaunty salute, he did as she asked, excited for the big reveal.

"You, sir, are late," she accused when he returned, but the sight of the brightly wrapped package distracted her, as he knew it would. She was already in bed, under the covers, lights off except the one on her bedside table.

He crossed the room to hand her the gift, watched her rip into the paper with delight - delight over the gift, but more delight that he was there. It was strange to have been missed so fiercely when for him time hadn't really passed. Strange, yes, but it felt good.

"Oh, you didn't!"

"Ah, but I did!" He motioned that she should move over, and having kicked off his shoes and removed his leather jacket he sat next to her atop the covers, leaning back against the headboard. "Are you pleased, then?"

"Well, I wouldn't say it was worth what you put me through," she said pointedly. "But that aside, I'd say you did very well, Doctor. Considering this last one hasn't even been published yet!"

He grinned and selected the first book from the set, gestured that she should pile the rest on the table beside her. "And I thought, since you were so insistent of their merit, that perhaps we might read them together."

This apparently was the best possible thing he could have suggested, as from the corner of his eye he saw her get misty about it. But when she answered, she answered as she always did, a mixture of fun and pure affection.

"I do think I'd rather enjoy that, Doctor. But no doing the voices, yeah? You could probably pull off Potter, but your Hermoine would be lacking."

"I think I could manage a fair Voldemort," he suggested, but was cut off with an elbow to the leg.

""He who must not be named"!" she insisted. "Let's be reasonable!"

"When have you known me to be unreasonable?" he questioned as he arranged an offered pillow behind his back so he could relax more comfortably, and opened the book.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that. You've forbidden me to talk your ear off all night."

"Oh, you cheeky thing." And, after placing a hand atop her head and ruffling her hair affectionately, he began to read, reading until she had fallen asleep, warm and settled. He had thought about sneaking out, but felt he owed her to stay. And long after he had turned out the light, he found himself once again considering what all this meant, what he had done to this child, this WOMAN, to this family. What could be done to stop it, if he was so inclined.

But she would not be dissuaded, he knew. Neither he nor Jackie nor likely any being in the Universe, now or ever, could have talked her out of making her way back to the TARDIS in the morning, back to their life of adventure. Back to their life together. And for as much as he didn't like to think about it, one wrong move from either of them could make each adventure her last. Jackie had once cornered him, asked him straight out if Rose was safe, if he could keep her safe. And he hadn't answered, for good reason. They'd been on the brink so many times already. Though Rose was careful to sanitize her reports to her mother of what they'd been up to, she couldn't fully disguise the danger without not reporting at all. No wonder that poor woman was beside herself with worry, laying into him like he was the big bad wolf preying on her only child.

What he refused to reflect on was how devastated Rose had been when she thought he'd gone. He could have chalked it up to her mourning the adventures, being forced to return to the normalcy of her life here. And maybe he would have. Had he not refused to reflect.

What he knew, plainly and clearly, was that he wanted her with him. And that even if his new-found compassion for Jackie's pain or his own well-buried pangs of worry that some day he may not be able to protect her were enough to cut her loose, he knew the only way to do so was drop her off and disappear, this time for real.

But he had promised to never leave her behind. And despite Jackie's convictions about men and "never" and "forever", this was one promise he fully intended to keep.


	2. Q & A

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Nine  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place just after "Father's Day" (1x8). Contains spoilers for "Father's Day".  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>After losing her father once again and nearly destroying humanity, Rose has a lot of questions.

* * *

><p>That wasn't the first time they had shared a bed.<p>

After the Doctor had led Rose away from the lifeless body of her father before anyone could see her face, she seemed to withdraw into herself, answering his concern for her well-being with hollow words and blank nods. He held tightly to her hand but her fingers didn't return the pressure as she allowed herself to be pulled along.

When they reached the TARDIS, he tried to probe further but was again shut down. He tried to take care of her, but she waved off his suggestions. He tried to embrace her but she stepped back. "I just need to be by myself for a bit," she said finally, firmly, sounding more exhausted then he had ever heard her. "Need to work things out in my head."

"I can help with that," he assured her. Any anger or frustration he may have felt toward her was long gone, and now he just felt guilty, responsible for allowing her to be put in that position to begin with. He should have said "no" to her first request to go back. This was all his fault. His problem. So he felt compelled to be a part of the solution.

She gave him a weary smile, her eyes watering, her voice catching slightly. "Need to have a bit of a breakdown as well, I think," she admitted, a little nervous to say it aloud. Part of her had always felt that to admit weakness would make her less desirable as a travelling companion. And as such she never did, always pushing through, pressing on. She's succeeded fairly admirably considering the circumstances, she thought. Until now.

"I'd say you're entitled. But I can help with that, too." He stepped toward her again, wanting to comfort her, but again she stepped away, her hands in front of her as though to ward him off. "Rose..."

"I just... I just need some time." She was pleading with him now. The part of her that was grieving her father anew wanted nothing more than to take him up on his offer. It was her own guilt, her own feeling of responsibility for nearly ending the world, her shame and embarrassment, that was keeping her from doing so.

He didn't understand, but he let her go. "Time is something we have quite much of," he remarked lightly. "So you can take all of it that you need."

She nodded and started to turn, the tears already falling. But before she fled she looked at him one last time. "Can I come find you? Later?"

He was relieved by the request. "'Course you can." And then she was gone.

The Doctor directed the TARDIS to a neutral point in space and time, then set about trying to be productive while he waited for Rose to come looking for him. He ate, though he had no appetite. He read, though his mind kept wandering. He berated himself, though that was nothing new; it simply hadn't happened as much of late, because somehow she'd managed to give him happier things to think about. And finally he resorted to sleep.

The flow of life had been erratic with Rose in the beginning; she was so young and energetic, but would also overextend herself out of excitement and then crash for long hours to recover. At first he rather resented being held back by her fondness for sleeping in, as though time was being wasted. But after attempting a few adventures while she was dead to the world, he realized it mostly made him sad, like going to the movies by yourself or eating alone at a restaurant. Some things were just better shared. "Better with two."

And so while his species didn't require near the same amount of sleep as humans, he eventually started to adopt her schedule. Rarely actually sleeping, of course, but often resting while she rested. Reading a lot, tinkering, recreating. But also daydreaming, remembering, reflecting. It had been awhile since he would have allowed himself to stop long enough to do these things, since his mind and hearts could take it, but having her here changed things for him, little by little. Changed HIM. Made it easier to be alone with his thoughts. Made it better, all of it.

But tonight he just wanted to wait for her. He took a long shower, dressed himself in comfortable pajamas, then climbed into his bed, leaving his door wide open for her, and tried to close his eyes.

Apparently he'd actually managed to nod off; it was the chewing that eventually woke him. She was sitting cross-legged atop his covers, crunching a sugary cereal that he'd laid in a supply of just for her. Her hair was pulled back, her face scrubbed free of make-up, and her body clad in a baggy t-shirt and sweats. The light from outside his open door was enough for him to see that some life had returned to her eyes.

Seeing her like this, looking so very young, made him feel ancient beside her. And yet her care and affection for him always made him feel hundreds of years less than his actual age.

If she felt bad for rousing him, she didn't show it. "Hey," she acknowledged quietly when she noticed him watching her.

"Hey." He didn't move, was almost scared to breathe, as though he might spook her. "I was wondering if you'd fallen asleep."

"Nah,"she replied. "Just had a lot of thinking to do." More chewing. She looked a bit relaxed now, though it was obvious the weight of the almost-destroyed-world had not completely left her shoulders.

"All thinked out now, are you?"

"Not hardly." And then she went on to prove it.

While Rose had a rather insatiable curiosity, it had been to her favour that she'd managed to suspend her need for understanding everything early in their time together. It wasn't that she accepted that there was no way for her to grasp it all; she was just having so much fun and adventure that being stuck out of the loop wasn't something she had a lot of time to dwell on.

But now all of her old questions were back, along with a host of new ones, and no longer hanging about in the theoretical. She had nearly ended the world after all, and so it seemed more than prudent that she be given a lesson on the ins and outs of intruding in your own timeline, the potential for paradoxes, and the like.

While this conversation started in his bedroom, it continued back to the kitchen where she poured herself some more cereal and they both had a cup of tea. Then to her library - she found his too large and intimidating, so the TARDIS had been kind enough to give her something much smaller and filled with books more to her liking - which she always claimed had the best sofa. Then to her washroom where they cleaned their teeth side by side and continued to question and answer through mouthfuls of paste. (There was better technology in the universe for dental hygiene, of course, but Rose found comfort in what she was used to and the Doctor enjoyed the classics.) But when he headed back to his room, she hesitated at the door, watching him slip under his covers.

"You're going back to sleep, yeah?" The disappointment in her voice was not masked.

He adjusted the lighting and gave her a warm, affectionate smile. "You know I don't sleep. Let's carry on, then."

And so she assumed her previous position, cross-legged facing him, until her questions moved from the more technical to the personal, and through them she found herself revealing the depth of her emotions about meeting and losing her father. When he felt the change, he had patted the place beside him and she gratefully allowed herself to be tucked in.

She didn't cry, and they didn't embrace, or even really touch. But as he could hear her fading even as she fought to stay awake so she could get all this out, he cut the lights and they lay facing each other, very close, breath mingling, a quiet intimacy settling around them.

"I really am sorry." He had wondered when she'd get to that, knowing it must have been underlying all the rest.

He was glad that in the dark she could no longer see his eyes well enough to interpret what must have appeared there. "Rose Tyler, I am going to accept your apology once more because I know that's what you need," he said seriously. "But now I don't want you to give it another thought. I brought you there without preparing you. You couldn't have understood the consequences, and you couldn't have known what being there would do to you."

"Doctor - " she began, but he cut her off.

"But I should have known better. I was reckless, and _I'm_ sorry I put you in that position."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. "You sound like my dad; he told me it was his job to take the blame." She made a frustrated noise and rolled onto her back. "You shouldn't have to clean up my messes, and you definitely shouldn't have to take responsibility for them. I'm not a kid, you know. And I'm certainly not _your_ kid."

Her last statement carried significantly more meaning then the rest, but he wisely decided that being in his bed when they were both feeling a bit raw and unguarded made it the wrong time to try to unpack that meaning.

"This isn't about age," he said finally. "I'm a Time Lord, and along with that comes a great responsibility that I maybe haven't been keeping in focus like I should." That was a substantial understatement. He smiled in the dark. "Maybe I've been finding it a little difficult to say "no" to you of late."

He could hear in her voice that she was smiling back. "Falling victim to my feminine wiles and irresistible charm, no doubt."

"Or your incessant nagging," he offered, and got a pillow across his face. They both laughed, then fell silent for a long time.

Just when he was sure she had fallen asleep, Rose spoke again. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For cleaning up my mess. For saving the world, again."

"Nah. Your dad did it all."

"But you -"

"But I nothing. He figured it out, he made the choice, and he did what needed to be done. Your dad is a hero, Rose Tyler." He reached for her and found her hand atop the covers where it rested by her side, curling his fingers around hers. "That must be where you get it from."

She didn't reply, and he sensed that she was trying not to get emotional again. She pulled his hand over her stomach and grasped it in both of hers. "Thank you," she finally repeated, and he understood.

She slept, and he stayed for a long time, just listening to her breathe.


	3. Pass or Fail

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Ten  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place during "The Christmas Invasion" (2x1) the night before they depart from London.  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>The Doctor, newly regenerated, is tested by both Tyler women.

* * *

><p>"Do you still love my daughter?"<p>

Jackie had stopped the Doctor on his way out the door, headed back to the TARDIS where he meant to get some sleep, to give Rose another night at home and see if he couldn't get more normalized after his regeneration-gone-wrong.

"Jackie…"

"I'm not meaning to meddle," she said honestly. "But if this is the way things always are for you - all danger and aliens and killer Christmas trees and the like - then I need to know."

The Doctor fell silent; while his brain could generally manage all kinds of complex thoughts, he was having trouble determining the best way to address her question and concern. "It's complicated," was all he could come up with.

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm not asking your intentions, now, and I'm not asking you to make a commitment or give me the gory details. I just know how HE felt about her. The other you. But you've changed your face. Have you changed your feelings?"

There was no point in trying to explain to Jackie the ins and outs of regeneration, how he was still himself but not, how nothing was different but everything was different. Even if he could explain it, he knew that it wasn't what she really wanted to know.

"The way I feel about Rose has not changed," he said firmly, finally. "I can promise you that, Jackie Tyler. I may not be completely sure yet who I am, but I know who she is."

She looked down then, and the Doctor wondered if he was about to get slapped or otherwise laid into. But when she glanced up again her eyes were full of tears. A shaky breath and a shaky smile let the Doctor know he'd answered just right. "To bed with you then." And with that, she dismissed him.

And to bed he went. It was always a new experience, regeneration. This time, he was exhausted and wired all at once. His pajamas no longer fit, and after a half hour of fidgeting it bothered him enough to send him searching for others.

When he returned to him room, Rose was there, atop his covers with book in hand. "A chapter or two to help you get to sleep?" she suggested casually.

He was beyond pleased to see her, and put a hand on the wall of the TARDIS to show he approved; the TARDIS tended to play tricks, after all, and his room wasn't always the easiest to find for anyone but him. Not that Rose ever seemed to have much trouble; she just didn't often look.

With a big grin – a new grin with new teeth – he bounded over and hopped up next to her. "I think you'll like my reading voice," he offered, taking the book from her, sitting as close as he could without being TOO close. "It seems more distinguished. Do you think I'm more distinguished?"

"I think you're a nutter," she said with a laugh, but he caught her looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

"You can look, Rose," he told her, tone more serious now. "Really. I'd rather you did." He'd caught her peeking at him all through dinner. He could only imagine how disconcerting it all must be for her.

She blushed, just slightly, eyes to her lap. "I'm not here to look. I'm here to listen. Lots of time for looking."

"A lifetime, at least." He knew her well enough to know there was more to this then his new face. They hadn't had a chance yet to talk about all that had happened _before_ his regeneration. Not that they were much for talking, not like that. It had always been easier for him to keep moving, on to the next adventure, and she'd settled easily enough into that pattern. But for her sake, he knew some things would need to be said. "I'm here to listen too, you know," he told her meaningfully, and she understood.

"Lots of time for that, too." She nudged him. "Let's get you tucked in. I'm not here to keep you up."

He obliged her by scooting back and slipping under the covers, happy not to push her. He opened the book to the chapter bookmarked with a picture of them… well, more or less. He saw her notice and watched to see how she would react, instead finding her non-reaction hard to interpret.

"Maybe I'd better do the reading, then. So you can just nod off."

He handed the book back to her agreeably and closed his eyes, but when she started in they flew open again. "Um… read that bit already," he interrupted. "Last time." And when she beamed down at him he realized he'd just been tested. And passed.

"Just checking." And flipping ahead a chapter, she read him to sleep.


	4. Gifts

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Nine  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place immediately after "The Unquiet Dead" (1x3).

**CHAPTER SUMMARY: **Rose gets tired.

* * *

><p>"So, where to next?" the Doctor asked Rose when she returned from changing back into her regular clothes.<p>

"Doctor, don't you ever sleep?"

Rose had fought with living plastic, been present at the end of the World, and kissed Charles Dickens. Aliens and ghosts, space travel and time travel, all in the span of... How long had it even been? She was feeling disoriented. Lightheaded.

Exhausted. The Doctor realized it even before she did, and found himself annoyed by it. "You lot, wasting away your time in bed. No wonder it took you so long to get anything done."

"You should be glad of it. We "stupid apes" would've taken over the whole universe by now if we hadn't had to stop for tea and sleep." She grinned cutely at him, but was leaning heavily on the TARDIS console. Adrenaline had sustained her, but now that she had stopped to catch her breath, she could feel her body crashing.

"I'll pop you home, then. You can check in with your mum and get some rest." The Doctor reached around her to flick a switch but she diverted him, grabbing his hand and hanging on.

"What, no beds on this thing?" she challenged. "A place as huge as this, and nowhere I could lay down to get a few hours of shut eye? Surely YOU must have a room somewhere."

"Somewhere," he conceded noncommittally. "But don't you want to go home, see your mum?"

"I suppose, yeah," she said honestly. "But I'd much rather do that AFTER I've gotten some sleep, if you wouldn't mind." What she didn't want to tell him, what she would have felt embarrassed to admit or afraid of putting thoughts in his head, was that she didn't want to leave the TARDIS without him. Because she was scared if he dropped her off he might not come back. Or that he might pop off for an adventure on his own and realize he didn't want a sidekick slowing him down after all.

"Well... I s'pose we'll have to get you settled eventually. Guess now's as good a time as any." He tugged her by the hand she was still holding, feeling her squeeze his fingers when he said the word "settled" but not quite catching that he'd said just the right thing to calm some of her fears. "You want a bit of a tour first?"

"Umm..." Truthfully, she was dying to explore this magical box that she'd determined was to be her home. But she would need to get it through her head that she rather literally had all the time in the world. "Let's leave that to when I'm awake enough to enjoy it, yeah?"

"Okay." Upstairs, downstairs, down a hall, around a bend. Then he paused outside a closed door. "This one might do."

"Not too sure?" she questioned, confused by his lack of confidence. Perhaps it was just such a big place he couldn't remember where everything was, she surmised.

He didn't answer, instead dropping her hand to open the door.

It was nice. Feminine without being childish. Comfortable and clean. He put a hand on the door jam, and the TARDIS hummed. "She likes you," he commented, mostly to himself.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," he dismissed her quickly. "This room okay?"

"Yeah, but - " She had so many questions about why such a room was here, and why it was so well preserved. She didn't know it had never been used in this incarnation before, that it really was FOR HER.

It would be a long time before she would find out; he knew well that this was not the time for such conversations. "I'll show you the other essentials, then. Pay attention; if you get lost I may not hear you if you yell."

He showed her a bathroom ("One of many.") and the kitchen ("In case you need a bedtime snack."), and offered to show her to the wardrobe again but she insisted she could find her way, then back to the door of her room. "Got it?"

"Got it."

"I'll be off then," he told her, and he was. Not exactly the perfect host, but she forgave him because it was how she liked it. She didn't interpret it as rudeness or lack of caring, but more so as "make yourself at home".

She never did find the wardrobe; she could swear it had moved. But the bathroom was well stocked, including a robe which she slipped on over her t-shirt and knickers, leaving the rest of her clothes folded on the counter for tomorrow. Relieved and cleaned up a bit, she returned to her room and shedding the robe climbed into bed. Her bed. And as she started to really consider that this could be her life now, the adrenaline ramped up a bit again.

Back into her robe, she padded barefoot around a bend, down a hall, upstairs, downstairs.

"Seriously, though. Don't you sleep?"

He was under the console in the control room, his legs sticking out.

"Don't you?" he answered back. "I thought that was the point."

"Headed there, I promise. Just curious, is all." she paused. "About a lot of things. Mind's kinda busy."

He stopped what he was doing, came out from under the console, accepted her hand to help him up, didn't let go. "I'll never be able to explain it all. You know that, right? It's a big universe, and you'll never understand. Not even a fraction. Your brain couldn't hold it all, couldn't come close." He wasn't being condescending, not in the least, and his voice made his intention clear. As he spoke, her excitement grew, bringing a flush of happiness to her face. What an adventure lay before her. What a gift. She dropped his hand and grasped his arm instead. "But you won't make it very far into this big old universe if you don't get some sleep. So let's get you to bed."

She leaned on him heavily as he led her back to her room, but not entirely out of necessity. She was so grateful, and her exhaustion made her feel rather sentimental about it. She finally released him to climb into bed, handing him her robe only after she was safely under the covers.

"Couldn't find the wardrobe again, could you?" he said with a grin, hanging it on the bedpost.

"Just you wait," she challenged. "Give me a day or two and I'll have your magic box all figured out."

"Good luck with that. She still surprises me all the time." He adjusted the blankets, tucking them up to her chin, not quite tender, but not disengaged either. "You'll be alright then?"

"I expect." She yawned then. "I'll find you in the morning. Though I suppose it won't be morning, will it? Not really." She thought for a moment, then laughed. "This whole thing is just mental. I'm going to need a whole new vocabulary just to describe how time is passing."

"Go to sleep, Rose Tyler. We'll get started on your vocabulary soon enough." He headed to the door, turning out the light on the way.

"What will you do, while I sleep?" she called after him.

"Who's to say? Read a book or two. Take a swim, maybe."

"There's a SWIMMING POOL?!"

"Good night, Rose," he said firmly, closing the door behind him. Her excitement had infected him. As he shuffled off to find something to occupy him while she slept, he realized he wasn't annoyed anymore.

She wasn't the only one who had been given a gift.


	5. Kids

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Ten  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place sometime between "Tooth and Claw" (2x2) and "School Reunion" (2x3).

**CHAPTER SUMMARY: **The Doctor asks an unexpected question.

* * *

><p>"Do you want kids, Rose?"<p>

The thought had never occurred to the Doctor until this day, having watched her surrounded by the Zaleizes'n children as they moved through the town, all of them wanting to hold her hand, touch her skin or her hair. Having watched her essentially hold court with them, being so generous with her time and attention. Tiny bodies pressing in, drinking in her warmth. Little hands offering drawings and trinkets for her to remember them by. Seeing her love every minute of it, returning to the TARDIS all-smiles, humming, chattering happily about the experience, bringing her collection of gifts right to her room as he followed and beginning to arrange them on walls and surfaces. Not stopping even when he asked the unexpected question.

"Kids?!" she repeated incredulously, laughing at the thought. "What on earth would we do with kids, then?!" She was rummaging through a drawer, looking for more tacks. "First of all, can you just picture it? Me as big as a house chasing you around all time and space? And you'd expect me to stay aboard the TARDIS until he's old enough to run, I bet. Or maybe we'd bring my mum aboard to be the nanny. You'd LOVE that!" She slid the drawer shut. "I think I'm out of tacks."

Finally she took the time to really look at him. He sat crosslegged on her bed with a rather stunned and bemused expression on his face. "What?" After a moment of consideration, she inhaled sharply. "Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking..." Then she was beside him, her legs over the side of the bed, her arm looped through his, leaning into him, speaking sincerely. "I suppose, what with you being the last... Having kids is probably important to you, yeah? Like, continuing on the race or whatever. Though would HALF a Time Lord still be a Time Lord? Enough of one, I mean." She searched his face, misinterpreting his lack of response. "Plus, COULD we even? Like, genetically speaking? I mean, I know you LOOK like a human, but..."

The Doctor dropped his head then, and after a moment his shoulders began to shake. Rose felt horrible and pressed in close, trying to comfort him... until she realized he was laughing. "What the hell!" She shoved him, nearly off the bed, and when he just kept laughing she shoved him again and turned bright red. "What?" She couldn't help it, though; she was laughing now, too. "Seriously! What did I miss?"

"That wasn't meant to be a proposition!" he huffed out. He was laughing so hard it hurt.

"I KNOW that, you nutter," she spat back, returning to the dresser where the TARDIS had seen fit to supply some more tacks for her use. She didn't want him to see how embarrassed she was. She was still laughing, though. It really was rather funny.

"It was just a general question! Like, did you ever want to have kids when you were growing up?"

"Well that's all well and good, but who else am I going to be having kids with?" She stuck her tongue out at him and then finished her task while he caught his breath.

"I'm sorry, Rose," he said finally, grinning ear to ear, turning away from her when he saw her pull pajamas from the drawer. "Sometimes you are just so adorable I can't help myself."

"Oh, I'll give you 'adorable', Mister. Just you wait. When you least expect it." And then she went on to deliver on that threat, though not in the way she'd intended. When he turned back to her she was all fleece and cotton and messy pony-tailed and cute. "I'm hungry. Book and tea, yeah?"

They'd already read a lot that day; the whole point of going planet-side was that he had promised big, beautiful, shady trees to sit under, warm breezes and minimal insect activity: perfect outdoor reading weather. He'd found a proper picnic basket and they'd landed just outside of town so they could fill it with some local offerings, not expecting the children to take such a keen interest in the off-worlders. Apparently, they'd never seen a species with long, blonde hair before, but there was a story of such a person in one of their fairy tales.

And so they had a small group of children follow them from a discreet distance to the reading spot they chose, but when Rose heard them giggling she had called them over and introduced herself. The next thing the Doctor knew, she had filled them in on the first three Harry Potter books (with some animated help from him, of course) and was instructing him to start reading book four aloud to them all. Interrupted only a few times by curious parents who apparently didn't consider them a threat (if only thanks to some slightly psychic paper), Rose and the Doctor took turns relating the tale to the youngsters who cuddled close and vied for positions on the readers' laps, until a bell rang in town which apparently signaled it was time to close the shops for the evening meal. As guardians came to collect their kids, Rose quickly summarized the rest of the book from her memory of the movie so they wouldn't be left wondering what had happened.

Finally alone. "You want to leave, too?" the Doctor asked.

Rose looked around, breathed in the cool, refreshing air, and said, "Maybe just one more chapter?"

He'd managed to save a few pieces of fruit; the rest of their picnic leftovers had been distributed to the children throughout the afternoon, with another run into the town to replenish. So after a quick snack to settle their gnawing stomachs, Rose took up the book again just as the Doctor saw her shiver. "Cold?" he asked.

"Just a bit." The sun was sitting lower in the sky.

"Here," he offered, removing his suit jacket and gesturing for her to come closer to where he reclined against the big, beautiful, shady tree, which was just as he'd promised and more lovely than she'd imagined.

She crawled towards him on the picnic blanket, turning in front of him between his bent knees, and allowed him to help her slip the jacket on and reach around her to tug it closed.

This was nothing new. While often tending to be rude, the Doctor knew how to be a gentlemen if he stopped long enough to realize the situation warranted it. Rose was grateful for the gesture and accepted it wordlessly.

What WAS new was the gentle pressure of his hands on her waist when she tried to move away. She turned her head questioningly, and he rubbed his hands along her arms as though in answer, warming her further while pulling her against him.

Yes, this was definitely new. At least in this body. In his other incarnation he'd had a few occasions to hold her, but since his regeneration it had been different, as though he wasn't yet comfortable in his own skin. Understandable, to be sure. And so for whatever else Rose was feeling as she gave in, settling herself between his legs, leaning back against his chest, she was encouraged that he had initiated the contact with such outward casualness.

"Mmmm," she hummed contentedly as she found their page, bending her knees towards her chest so she could rest the book on them, crossing her ankles. "You first, yeah?"

And so Rose held the book while he held her, his chin resting on her shoulder so that they were cheek-to-cheek, his arms curled around her, trapped against her abdomen. His voice was quiet next to her ear, and when he chuckled she could feel the vibrations in his chest.

When the chapter was finished, rather than indicating that she should continue to the next he reached up to close the book and set it aside. He straighened out his legs and she did the same, arching her back and extending her arms forward in a luxurious stretch before settling again, her hands covering his where they rested lightly above her hips.

"This was lovely," she told him, her body melting into his as he reclined further against the tree. "Thank you."

"Oh, nothing to thank ME for," he insisted cheekily. "I'm just the designated driver."

They were silent for awhile, enjoying the fresh air, enjoying their closeness. But when he turned his head toward hers and she felt his nose practically nuzzle behind her ear, she shivered again and when he suggested they should pack up before it got colder, she couldn't bring herself to stop him by admitting she was deliciously warm and her shiver had nothing to do with the temperature.

Once they were on their feet, the spell was broken. They joked and laughed as they folded the blanket and tucked it in the basket with the book.

It was quickest to walk back through the village to return to the TARDIS, and as they did so they encountered a few of the children they had spent the afternoon with, their excited voices attracting more. Apparently many of them had hoped that the visitors had not yet departed, had been busy and anxiously awaiting their guardians' blessings to leave the table so they could rush to find them again. That was when Rose had received the pictures and tokens which were now displayed in her room.

Now in the kitchen, she sat on the counter top and read to him while he put together their supper. And after they ate the Doctor had suggested they retire to her library, determined that they would finish the book before she went to sleep.

The TARDIS evidently concurred; the library was much closer to the kitchen then usual, the lighting dimmed, and the fireplace lit.

They began on opposite ends of the couch, as they always did. After his regeneration watching him read had been an excuse to get more comfortable with his new form, being able to stare without him questioning or teasing, tracing the lines of his face with her eyes, memorizing every feature.

She wasn't sure why he needed an excuse, but he always seemed to watch her with the same intensity as she read. Maybe she looked different to him; she sometimes felt as though she was being watched with new eyes, and not just in the literal sense.

With only two chapters left, it was finally he who made the move to close the gap between them. He handed her the book - it was her turn - and kicked off his shoes so he could stretch out, laying on his side facing the fire, his head in her lap. Rose shifted so her feet were on the floor, making him more comfortable. She balanced the book on the wide armrest, holding it open with one hand while the other played absently with his hair. Then she read until the story was over.

They were silent for a long time, absorbing what they'd heard and read, lulled by the heat of the flames dancing before them. Rose's touch became a little less absent as she scratched her fingers along his scalp and the back of his neck, something she knew he loved. The Doctor's eyes closed in contentment.

She almost would have believed he'd nodded off when suddenly he shifted onto his back and looked up at her. "So, really. Did you ever think about having kids?"

She rolled her eyes and smiled down at him. "Still on this, yeah? Well, truthfully, I never really gave it much thought. Always seemed like such hard work, taking care of a kid."

"But you're so good with them." He covered the hand that had come to rest on his chest with his own. "You seemed so happy today."

"I was having a picnic date with my best mate on a perfect spring day, with an tiny entourage who treated me like a fairy princess out of their favourite nursery rhymes. 'Course I was happy." Then she grinned, tongue in teeth. "Though I rather liked seeing you covered in kids, too." She yawned and squirmed, her leg pins and needles under his weight. "So, what do you have planned for after I wake up?"

"Oh, I don't know," he answered casually, taking the hint and rolling off the couch, offering her a hand and pulling her up as well. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Not sure. It's so hard to choose." She led him back to her room as she spoke, him in his socks as he carried his shoes in his hands. "I think somewhere... different. Like, proper strange."

"Like up is down, black is white, summer is cold and winter is hot kind of different?"

"I don't know. I just think it'd be fun to experience something truly outlandish!"

He poked her in the side. "I can't take you to Hogwart's, you know, if that's what you're looking for."

"What good are ya, then?" she admonished with a grin, stopping outside her bathroom. "Give me five minutes to get ready for bed."

It was closer to 15, but the Doctor was used to that. When she finally joined him he was laying on top of her bed, staring at the ceiling. "I think I may have just the place," he told her as she slipped under the covers. "'Proper strange' and outlandish, or so I've heard."

"Some planet on the edge of nowhere?"

"Earth, actually. Fancy a go at Woodstock?"

She laughed at his cleverness, and so did he. "Well, I wouldn't mind popping in, just to see what all the fuss was about." And so it was agreed.

The lights were out now, but he stayed with her awhile longer in the dark, and Rose could practically hear him thinking.

Finally: "Thanks, for before."

"What do you mean?"

"It was kind of you, to think of me the way you did. I shouldn't have laughed."

She knew immediately what he was referring to, and rather than beg off she remained quiet to see if there was anything else he wanted or needed to add.

There was, but apparently he wasn't going to share it. Not just then. "Well, I'd best leave you to it, then." And with that, he was on his feet, collecting his shoes and half way to the door.

"Hey, now, hadn't you best give me a proper tuck in? Good practice for if I do end up popping out a baby Time Lord or three," she said cheekily. "Since you barely sleep you'd be handling all the bedtimes, after all."

"A small price to pay for denying your mother nanny-duty. And I withdraw my sincere thanks, by the way, since you insist on your teasing. I'll know better for next time than to bother." But he was back at her bedside, adjusting her covers, brushing her hair aside and pressing his lips to her forehead. All forgiven, on both sides. "Sleep well, Rose."

Just as he was about to step into the hallway, she called out, "Doctor?"

"Yes, Rose?"

"I'm thirsty. Can you bring me some juice?"

He huffed and shook his head in mock exasperation. "Don't press your luck, young lady." And as the door clicked shut, he could hear her delighted laughter follow him.


	6. Trust (Part 1)

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Ten  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place very close to "Army of Ghosts" (2x12).

**CHAPTER SUMMARY: **Trust takes many forms, and one of them is a lack of fanfare.

* * *

><p>They were giddy. A new adventure in the making had begun right before their eyes. Well, Rose's eyes; the Doctor's back had been turned and despite his occasional assertions otherwise he apparently did NOT have eyes in the back of his head.<p>

He hadn't meant for them to find an adventure. After nearly losing her yet again he was feeling a bit gun-shy and their last few stops had seen them little more than tourists. This stop was meant to be no different.

It really wasn't the Doctor's fault. And Rose wasn't about to lay blame; she was loving every minute of it.

Their investigation had led them into a bit of trouble, and they found themselves locked in a small, modern holding cell together, under suspicion and under guard. Since some fast talking or a sonic screwdriver could have resolved the predicament neither were worried, instead making the choice to use this opportunity to rest and regroup.

An hour after their initial incarceration, Rose had just been returned to the cell by a guard who'd taken her to the bathroom. The Doctor had already had his turn. Formal questioning was to commence in the morning, though they didn't plan to be there that long. It was night now, and soon enough they would stage their escape.

The cell was meant for one, but they'd insisted they be kept together and the guards couldn't be bothered to separate them.

The Doctor sat at the head of the tiny bed, the single pillow against the wall so he could slouch back against it, his feet dangling and his arms crossed over his chest. His jacket was folded on his lap where Rose rested her head. Quietly they rehearsed the facts, but Rose was growing increasingly frustrated. "I was looking right at it! I just didn't know what I was seeing until it was over, so I didn't think to really LOOK, you know?"

The Doctor had already failed to talk her down, so he thought it was time to posit an alternative. "There's a way I could help with that, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"It's this...trick I can do. A Time Lord thing."

She made a face. "Hold up, there, Mister. The last time you showed me a Time Lord trick, you pretty much exploded right in front of me and then were all "presto-chango" before you nearly crashed the TARDIS into Powell Estate. I think I've seen enough of your Time Lord "tricks", thank you very much."

"Fair enough." It definitely hadn't been his best moment. "What if I said it was more of a Time Lord ABILITY? Would that help?"

"Well, in THAT case..." she teased. "But alright, let's hear it, then."

"You may not have known that we Gallifreyans are a little... well, let's just say psychic, although that doesn't quite capture it." He tapped her forehead with his index finger. "If you want me to, I can poke about a bit and pull out the memories."

"What, like a Vulcan mind-meld or something?"

The Doctor groaned; he abhorred a Star Trek reference. "Nothing of the sort."

She sat up then, turned toward him, her legs crossed and her eyes shining. "Seriously, though. You can just... pop in and take a look around?"

"We-ell, something like that. There's quite a bit more to it -"

She apparently didn't care to know the specifics. "Well, do it then!"

He paused. "Really. Just like that."

"Well, why not?" she asked with a genuine smile.

He hesitated a moment longer, not in reluctance but struck dumb by the amount of unquestioning trust she had in him. With a quick shake of his head he snapped out of it and turned toward her. "Why not indeed." He tucked one foot under him and put the other by her hip, his leg bent over hers, so they were sitting quite close. Rose didn't bat an eye as she nudged even closer, one arm wrapping lightly around his bent knee, her other hand resting casually on his opposite thigh.

"So, what? Do I have to clear my mind or something?" She wasn't being sarcastic; she was eager to begin, always ready for a new experience.

"Since we know what we're looking for, you can try to focus on the event. Then I can be in and out in no time flat."

"Really. That easy."

"Should be." He squeezed the hand on his thigh. "Allons-y?"

"Allons-y!" she answered with a wide grin.

"Alright, then. Just relax." He watched her take a deep breath and let it out slowly, her grin fading as her mind shifted to a more serious state. "Think about what you saw, but don't push too hard. Let me do the work." He touched his fingers to her temples and his thumbs to her cheeks, and was about to close his eyes when he saw her smirking. "What?"

She couldn't help but tease; it was too easy. "You liar; this is TOTALLY a mind-meld."

"Oh, forget it then!" he huffed loudly with mock exasperation, whacking her with the pillow before settling it behind his head as he let himself fall back on the bed.

"What, you gonna pout?" Extracting herself, she laid next to him, giggling into his shoulder. "You're a right terrible Vulcan. What would Mr. Spock say?"

Apparently they'd become a little raucous because a guard pounded on the door then and told them to keep it down before plunging the room into darkness. The light coming in from the hall made it easy enough for their eyes to adjust.

"Do you want to do this or not?" he asked more quietly when she'd settled, turning toward her. It was a VERY small bed.

"Of course. I mean, it's not going to be a great effort, is it? Will there be side effects?"

"Well, most people would find it a bit intrusive."

"I'm not 'most people', am I?" she challenged with a smile.

"That, Rose Tyler, you certainly are not," he smiled back. "It is quite intimate, though."

"Well, yeah, I'd expect so, what with you being inside my brain and all. But that's not a bad thing."

His eyes widened, as did his grin. "You chattin' me up right now?" he asked cheekily in exaggerated Cockney punctuated by a suggestive eyebrow waggle.

"Wow, this conversation got away, didn't it!" she laughed, pushing at his chest. "You know what I mean."

He eyed her thoughtfully. "Do I?"

All at once the mood in the room seemed to take a turn. She examined him with unexacting dubiousness through narrowed eyes. "Really? You want to have this conversation now?"

And he examined her right back before finally answering lightly, "No time like the present, I always say."

"Funny," she returned wryly. "I've never heard you say that."

"We-ell, I've been meaning to start."

A long pause as he watched her eyes soften and her expression turn blithe but rather inscrutable.

"Okay." Another moment to collect her thoughts. "Well... I mean, look at us. Nose to nose, literally, and it's all business as usual, yeah? So I think we're already pretty intimate."

"Point accepted, however there's a big difference -"

"But it's all about trust, right?" she interrupted before he could finish. "And us... being like this... that's just, like, a symptom."

"Are you implying that trusting me is a disease?"

"Well, I'd think anyone with any sense at all couldn't come by it naturally, considering. You're a madman with a blue box."

"Oh, thanks for that. Truly."

"You know it and you love it." They shared a chuckle before she continued. "Anyway, I know you've got lots you keep to yourself. You've got a few hundred years on me, all kinds of stories and secrets. And the war... I get it. But I'm just... me. I don't have that kind of history. Anything important I've ever done, you were right there with me. So I don't have stories and secrets to hide. Just some things left unsaid, maybe."

"Like what?"

Leave it to the Doctor to ask such a question so casually. "Well, if I said them, they wouldn't be unsaid anymore, would they?" she commented slowly, affectionately patronizing. But the way he was looking at her, so open, so quietly expectant, allowed her to answer truthfully just as casually as he'd questioned. "There are some things that just don't HAVE to be said. You know I love you."

"Quite right to," he jested, unphazed. Because he did know.

"Exactly." She shrugged, as though to simply acknowledge it and move on was the most natural thing in the world. Because somehow, it was. "There you go: You know my last secret. So let's get on with it, then."

His smile was so sincere, his eyes looking at her with such affection. "As you like, Rose Tyler." Avoiding the posture that had been the cause of the previous false start, he lifted one hand to the side of her face, threading his fingers through her hair and applying gentle pressure until her forehead came to rest against his, two sets of eyes fluttering closed. "Just relax," he murmured.

He shouldn't have been surprised that the connection had been so easy to initiate. He chuckled when she exhaled sharply, her breath hot against his face. "You alright?" he asked, nudging her nose with his own.

"Yeah," she assured him quickly, too quickly. "It's just... it's a bit weird, isn't it?"

He hummed agreeably. "Just stay focused. It won't take a minute." And then he was there with her, back in the court yard, seeing his own face through her eyes and taking in the scene over his own shoulder. "And there it is."

She could see it now. "What is it, Doctor?"

His answer was automatic, and he was filled with regret when she gasped and physically recoiled, breaking the connection. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" But then he saw that her expression was nothing short of exhilarated.

"What in the hell!" she blurted. In a moment's time he had shared with her all he knew about the creature he had helped her to remember. Thankfully it wasn't much, because her mind was racing trying to process it all.

"Rose -"

"Shhh... Just, shut up." Her smile grew wider and wider as her brain sorted things out and pieced things together in a way she could follow. Finally her eyes focused and she beamed at him. "Blimey. That was..." She shook her head, at a complete loss for words. Then she grabbed him by his tie and pulled herself flush against him, head to toe, foreheads together and noses touching. "Can we do it again?"

He laughed gaily and rolled her half on top of him for a moment so he could properly wrap his arms around her in a tight embrace. "Later," he promised. "But don't you think we ought to take care of our new friend first?" And then he was on his feet, pulling his long coat out from under her and giving it a shake before shrugging it on and digging for his sonic screwdriver. He'd already unlocked the cell door before Rose had even sat up. He opened the door quietly and peeked out. "The coast is clear." As soon as she was vertical he grabbed her hand. "And, we're off!"

It was all Rose could do to contain her joy as she let him pull her down the hall.


	7. Trust (Part 2)

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Ten  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place very close to "Army of Ghosts" (2x12), and immediately following the chapter "Trust (Part 1)" of this story.

**CHAPTER SUMMARY: **Trust takes many forms, and one of them is a lack of fanfare.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **While in terms of timeline we've nearly reached the end of their story, there are many "gaps" in the canon left to explore, so please "follow" to see more. Reviews are appreciated.

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><p>Twelve hours later they'd gotten it all sorted and they were back in the TARDIS. Rose was simultaneously flushed with exhaustion and high on adrenaline, keeping pace with him as they both talked a mile a minute.<p>

Already well fed by the grateful locals who'd been extremely apologetic about their earlier incarceration, Rose skipped off to prepare for bed while the Doctor dealt with the TARDIS and then went to freshen up himself before making his way to her room.

The door to her en suite - an unsolicited gift of the TARDIS awhile back - was open, steam pouring out from the shower, and he could hear her singing loudly. He leaned against the door frame. "An infinite amount of hot water doesn't mean you need to be in there for an infinite period of time, you know."

She poked her head out and grinned, tongue in teeth. "Just trying to help you work on your patience, Doctor," she told him sweetly, ducking back inside. She resumed her singing, but picked up the pace now that she knew he was waiting for her.

10 minutes later, she emerged to find him him stretched out on her bed - shoes and jacket off, tie loosened, blue shirt mostly unbuttoned to reveal the white tee underneath, spectacles atop his head in preparation for reading the book waiting beside him, ankles crossed and hands folded across his stomach. The picture of nonchalance. "Took you long enough. You going to be able to keep awake for even a chapter?" He couldn't tell if she was refusing to answer him or completely ignoring the question as she sat down beside him, facing away with her bare feet on the floor, trying to comb a knot out of her hair. She looked comfortable in cut-off sweats and a tank top. "You can dry your hair if you'd like. I can wait."

That caught her attention, apparently. "Ah, so my lessons in patience are paying off," she teased. "Nah, s'alright. I'm just gonna braid it." And as she started in on the left side he sat up and matched her movements on the right, pulling an elastic from her wrist to finish the job.

"So are we reading?" he asked neutrally. "It's okay if you're too tired."

"Actually, I was thinking..."

"Heaven help us."

"Oh, shut up, you." She gave him a playful shove which propelled him back onto the bed, and she crawled over him, settling heavily onto her pillow. They both rolled to face each other, mirroring their position from hours ago despite the fact that the bed was much bigger and their closeness was now by choice. "I was just thinking that maybe we could go round two."

"Yeah, I expected you might," he admitted. "Though it's really not meant to be recreational."

"And I don't mean it to be," she told him with a more than a hint of defensiveness. "I'm not asking like it's a parlour trick. There's actually something I want to remember. And I'm wondering why you didn't offer before."

The Doctor knew immediately what she was referring to. "I didn't think to offer, frankly. It's not something that needs remembering."

"You mean it's not something you WANT me remembering," she accused.

"Same thing." It was strange to him that she seemed reluctant to look at him, as though afraid to reveal something. "It's still bothering you, then. The missing time. You haven't mentioned it in a long while."

"Well, I didn't figure it was worth mentioning, since I didn't think mentioning it would change anything."

The series of events that had led up to the Doctor's regeneration into his current form had been shared with her, at least in the abstract. Once things had "died down" she'd demanded an explanation more credible than "I sang a song and the Daleks ran away". But his version of the account was sanitized by his care for her and the fact that he couldn't have a complete understanding of what she had experienced from her perspective. And apparently while she seemed to have come to terms with the consequences (or at least seemed able to will herself to forget), the actual feeling of having a chunk of time missing from her head continued to trouble her.

"Rose, I don't know that it would be safe," he began.

"I get that." Her hand was fiddling nervously with his tie. "And I'm not looking to relive it. Maybe rather than helping me remember, you can just show me what you saw. I reckon that couldn't do any harm..." Now she met his eye. "Could it?"

He looked at her rather sadly. "No, I suppose not. Not PHYSICALLY, anyway."

She already knew it was her emotions he was trying to guard. "I already feel it. And I'd rather have these feelings about what actually happened than about the way I imagine it. Does that make sense?"

In answer he tilted his head forward; he didn't have far to move because they were already laying so close to one another. She met him in the middle, and as their foreheads touched she sighed a "thank you".

He took it slow this time, walking through it with her like he was telling a story, letting her see it through his eyes though being careful, so careful.

Which apparently she sensed. "I know what you're doing."

"Rose..."

"Just... do it like before, yeah?"

The Doctor eased the connection then so he could address her properly. "Absolutely not," he said firmly, drawing back to look at her.

"No, come on." She made a frustrated noise and pushed her forehead against his, one of her hands sliding around the back of his neck to hold him there. "Don't stop. Just... at least let me feel it."

What she was asking, and what he knew she was asking, was to feel what he had felt. And maybe that's what she'd really been seeking all along. The death of the Daleks at her hand, the power she possessed to make it happen, was a reality too broad and nebulous for her to even relate to herself. But the way that this reality had effected him, his feelings about being forced to regenerate because of the choices she had made, these were things they never talked about and that haunted her imagination more than anything else.

"Why is it so important to you?" It should have felt strange to be having a conversation literally nose-to-nose, but perhaps she'd been right before about the intimacy between them.

"Because... because some things don't need saying. And some things do."

"So then let me say them."

"No offence, Doctor, but you are bloody brilliant at so very many things. Yet despite your gob, you are rubbish at saying how you feel. Even more rubbish than when you were all ears and leather."

"'Ears and leather'. Thanks for that. What a lovely way to sum a bloke up." He tried to pull back but she wouldn't let him, holding their foreheads firmly together, willing him to proceed. "'Hair and suit' now, I suppose."

The hand on the back of his neck took a quick detour upwards to run through his soft hair affectionately. "'Hair and stalling'," she corrected him with a chuckle. Then she was serious again. "I don't know what you're so afraid of."

"I'm not afraid," he immediately insisted.

"See? I told you you're rubbish at sayin' it." She scooted her body towards him a few inches until she was flush against him, hips pressed together and feet tangled, as though closing the final gap would make it impossible for him to escape. "If you're not afraid, get on with it, then," she challenged.

And then before she could even take a deep breath he was back in her head like he had something to prove.

Moments later, the deed was done and the connection broken. But it took a bit longer for her to return to herself and for her eyes to finally flutter open.

The Doctor hadn't moved. "Hello," he ventured, nudging her nose with his own. "Still with us, then?"

"More or less." She was still processing everything she'd just learned, putting the pieces in order, sifting through them. Emotional processing would need to come later. "That was some kiss, yeah?"

The Doctor couldn't help but chuckle. Leave it to her to latch onto that small detail. "I'd say. Made a new man of me."

"Oi, very "punny"." She drew her face back from his so they could talk properly, though the rest of her still pressed against him. As far as intimacy went, after what she'd just experienced laying here with him was nothing in comparison. Nor was finally asking some of the big questions. "When you...changed... did it change how you felt about me?"

"Your mother asked me that once."

"Really." This was news to Rose. "And what did you tell her?"

"The truth," he answered matter-of-factly.

She gave him a moment to expand on that response, but it only took that moment to realize he never would. And didn't have to. "Some things don't need sayin'?"

The hand that had found her waist some time earlier slid down, fingers curling over her hip. "The motto of a very good friend of mine. I've decided to adopt it."

"Coward," she teased, letting him off the hook. He'd already shared more with her than she'd thought he ever would, after all. "Who's pink and yellow now?"

"I see what you did there. Still clever even when you can barely keep your eyes open." This wasn't a figure of speech. Rose's mind was racing and overwhelmed, but her body was fading fast. "I know you feel like you want to stay awake to think about it all, but I promise if you sleep your brain will have it all sorted by morning." Not giving her the opportunity to protest, he pulled away from her and helped her slip under her covers. "I can stay if you'd like," he offered.

"That's alright," she replied automatically.

"No, really. I'd be happy to. Least 'til you nod off."

Rose didn't really need any convincing. She patted the place beside her and the Doctor sat leaning against the headboard. He tugged her pillow onto his lap and she curled into him, her fingers resting lightly on his thigh. One of his hands played at her hairline, the other caressing the bare skin of her arm, making her shiver.

Some time passed, and while her eyes were closed and her breathing even the Doctor could tell she was fighting sleep and her mind was working overtime. "Want me to read to you?"

"Mmm, would you?"

He adjusted the light level so he could see without straining and retrieved "The Deathly Hallows."

"The two men appeared out of nowhere, a few yards apart in the narrow, moonlit lane..." he read in a low voice.

They were beginning the seventh and last book of the series. It was hard to believe that after all this time, they were nearing the end.


	8. Smile

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Ten  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place just after "Girl In The Fireplace" (2x5). Contains spoilers for "Girl in the Fireplace" and "School Reunion".  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>Sometimes she hated it when he smiled at her.  
><strong>AN: **Reviews are appreciated.

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><p>Sometimes she hated it when he smiled at her.<p>

They seemed so close, Rose and the Doctor. There's was life-or-death trust not just in theory but in practice. And in rare moments he trusted her with words and admissions.

But when he would smile and move on when he should have raged or wept, it tended to hurt her more than whatever it was he should have raged or wept about. He could trust her with his life, but apparently not with his sadness.

And so when he returned to the TARDIS after leaving Paris and barely managed to curl up the sides of his mouth as he said in his most unconvincing voice that he was "always alright", it both scared and thrilled her.

Something had changed between them during their encounter with Sarah Jane Smith. It was a harsh realization for Rose not so much that she was one in a long line - she wasn't so childish and selfish that she would begrudge him companionship for the 900 or so years before he met her, even if that had been her first instinct and (rather embarrassing) first outward reaction - but that someday she, like Sarah Jane, might not even be spoken of again. That he would smile and move on from HER. Sarah Jane's insistence that some things were worth having your heart broken over had strengthened her resolve to be indispensable and unforgettable, not just for the sake of her ego, but for the sake of her Doctor whom she owed so much.

The encounter had a different effect on the Doctor. He had been so wrapped up in Rose that he'd managed to let himself forget that history was bound to repeat itself. This was the gift of living in the moment, and the curse of leaving it.

His decision to grant Mickey passage aboard the TARDIS despite Rose's clear indication that she didn't support it was in his mind charitable. Face-to-face with Sarah Jane, hearing her sad declaration ("You WERE my life"), he'd found himself promising that he would never, ever let this happen to Rose. That meant doing all he could to allow her something MORE than him. And for now, "Mickey the Idiot" was a convenient choice.

On the ship, in Paris, they were both off kilter, finding their feet. Rose had chosen to welcome the "intruder", maturely realizing it wasn't his fault and choosing to make the best of it for his sake; she owed him that at least. Mickey in the mix created a buffer and gave the Doctor an excuse to go off on his own. He hadn't even been conscious of how raw and emotional he really was until he found himself with a total stranger on the "slow path". He hadn't given a second thought to inviting her to come along. Despite the reasons for his state of mind, it never occurred to him that while to bring Reinette along might serve to change things between he and Rose, it would simply be putting a new companion in the same circumstance as his current one.

This of course all clicked into place for him fairly quickly when he was back on the TARDIS. He mourned her death and hated himself for giving her hope; another Sarah Jane Smith waiting for him to return and take her away. His failure was crushing, and his sadness quickly turned to anger. At himself, at the universe, at the men and women who insinuated themselves into his life and then made him a monster for simply living on.

And so when Rose returned to the console room, the look he gave her was one she'd never seen directed at her before. All she could think was that the Oncoming Storm had arrived.

"Where's Mickey? Shouldn't you be with him?" the Doctor asked shortly.

"I found him a room and left him to get settled. Told him I was too tired to explore with him." She found her way to the jump seat and sat down, watching him intently. "Thought you might want some company."

"Well, I don't."

She wasn't put off by his rudeness. "Yeah, well, then maybe I just thought you NEEDED some company." She eyed him critically. "When was the last time you slept?"

"I'm really not in the mood to be mothered right now."

"Yeah, no kidding."

His annoyance growing, he managed to bite his tongue and simply walked out of the room instead of lashing out further.

Of course, Rose followed. But she didn't speak; she sensed she had nothing to say that would help the situation just then. It wasn't in her nature to simply be quiet and wait, but she'd determined that this was to be a part of her new leaf, and it seemed time to give it a turn.

And so she followed him to the kitchen and made them both a sandwich while he tossed a salad big enough for two. Not a word passed between them as they worked and ate.

Then she followed him back to the console room where he flipped switches and checked readouts before pulling off a panel to tinker. Rather than watch him pretend to work, she went to the door and opened it, sitting with her feet dangling into open space as the TARDIS extended the atmosphere around her.

The first time she'd done this she'd been overwhelmed, but she was surprised now to realize that the novelty was wearing off. It was still beautiful, to be certain, but she no longer had the nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach like one might get peering over the edge of a great height. How had it become COMFORTABLE to be suspended in space? Staring out in to the unending vastness now had the welcome effect of quieting her mind and allowing her to relax her body.

So when he came up behind her and finally broke the silence, she was startled. "You should go to bed," he instructed rather gruffly.

"Anxious to get back on the road?"

"Always."

Without looking at him, she extended an arm and waited for him to take her hand and help her up. But when his fingers found hers she changed her mind and tugged him down instead. "Sit with me for a bit."

Apparently the fight had left him, and he obliged her without resistance.

Their bodies pressed unnecessarily close, her foot bumping his as she swung her legs casually, they fell silent again for a long moment. Then: "She left a letter for me." He absently tapped over the pocket where he'd tucked it away.

Wordlessly Rose slipped a hand inside his jacket and pulled out the envelope, not bothering to ask permission as she opened it and scanned its contents, pausing on the farewell ("Godspeed, my lonely angel"). Suppressing all her questions, understanding that this storm was about much more than missing a woman he'd known for less than a day, "I'm sorry" was all she could think to say.

The Doctor simply stared forward, gaze not wavering as he returned the letter to his pocket, his eyes growing impossibly larger as he sniffed and fought tears.

"You're exhausted," Rose observed aloud, voice thick with compassion. "A rest would do you good."

He sniffed again. "Can't stop. Not today."

Afraid to grieve, she suddenly recognized. Afraid that if he started he'd never stop. Had this always been what kept him running at such a frenetic pace?

Yet in the end he allowed himself to be led to his room, obedient as a child. She pulled him into his en suite and started the shower before setting to work to undress him, helping him shrug out of his jacket, loosening his tie, unbuttoning his shirt. He only stopped her when her fingers found the clasp of his trousers.

"Got it from here?" she questioned, gathering the discarded items. "Take as much time as you need." And then she was gone, leaving the door open behind her.

The Doctor removed the rest of his clothes and stepped under the hot spray, intending to stay only long enough to wash, not wanting to be left alone with his thoughts. But even as the heat relaxed his muscles he could feel a tension in his chest, and the next thing he knew he was weeping, sobbing, nearly retching at the violence of the emotional onslaught. Assuming Rose had stayed in his room, he was sure she could have heard him even over the rush of water. But he was unable to calm himself, and he had no choice but to give himself over to the moment.

Rose COULD hear him, which is why she decided to leave. She thought correctly that if she was gone when he emerged he could fool himself into believing that she was unaware of his breakdown and it would save him the embarrassment of facing her. And so after laying out some pajamas and hanging his jacket on the back of a chair, she gathered some garments strewn around that needed to be laundered and was on her way out the door when she had an idea. Once it was carried out, she left and resolved that she wouldn't crowd him, that she would trust him to come to her when he was ready.

Emerging from the shower and wrapping himself in a large towel, he peeked into his room and was relieved to find it was empty. Especially relieved because he was far from composed. Still visibly shaking, he dried himself, dressed in the clothes she'd left for him, and retrieving the envelope from his jacket he sat heavily on his bed. When he pulled out the letter to read once again, another scrap dislodged and fluttered onto the floor.

He stayed frozen at first, assuming it was something more from Reinette, dreading any new revelation, anything else that would lay bare his fears and failures. But when he finally summoned the courage to retrieve it, he recognized Rose's handwriting immediately. And her simple message brought new tears to his eyes: "You needn't feel lonely. You're not alone."

Rose hadn't meant to fall asleep, determined to wait for him even if he never came. She had dozed off with book in hand, slouching half-upright against the headboard.

With his emotions so raw, his feelings of affection were closer to the surface than usual as he maneuvered her despite her sleepy protests into a more comfortable position, setting her book aside and properly tucking her in.

"Hello," she said quietly as she returned to her senses.

"Hello," he repeated, kneeling beside the bed as she turned on her side to face him. "Sorry I woke you."

"No, I'm glad you did." She reached out and covered his hand with her own, lightly stroking his wrist with her thumb. "You're in your jams; that's good. That mean you're going to try to sleep?"

"Yeah, I'd say I'm overdue." It really had been awhile. "Mickey all squared away?"

"I'm guessing. I haven't seen him since I first left him." In truth, she'd rather forgotten about him.

"Well, if he's to travel with us he's got to learn to fend for himself. May as well start now." He paused. "Are you still angry that I invited him along?"

Rose sighed. "I wasn't angry. Not exactly. It's just..."

"I know." And he was fairly sure he did. "And I'm sorry. We should have had a proper chat about it before I told him yes."

"It's your ship," she countered, even and mature. "I'm just along for the ride. It's not my place to tell you who you can and can't travel with."

"It's been a long while since you were just "along for the ride". I would have thought you'd known that by now."

She gave him a sleepy grin. "I guess. But it _is_ nice to hear you say it."

He brought her hand to his lips in a ghost of a kiss. "Do you want me to bring him home?"

"Nah. He deserves to have an adventure or two. And besides," she added, exhaustion making her brave, "Mickey isn't really the issue here."

No sense denying it. "No, I suppose he's not." With that, the Doctor climbed over her to lay on the bed beside her. He intended to stay atop the covers but at Rose's insistence slipped between the sheets and settled in.

Rose immediately turned over and leaned into him, head on his chest and arm thrown over his stomach. Another first for them, in this body. "This has been a hard go for you. I wish you'd talk to me about it."

"Talking won't change anything," he said rather bitterly, even as he slipped a hand under her shirt to spread his fingers over the warm skin of her back. His other hand drew lazy patterns on the arm she'd curled around him.

"I guess not. But sometimes it can be enough to have someone understand." She sighed heavily, hooking a leg over his to draw him closer. "My poor Doctor. Always seeing what will be and what can be. Always afraid to get lost in what you have because you know you're going to lose it. No wonder you feel lonely."

The Doctor's hands stilled and he stared up at the ceiling. "I think you understand me pretty well." But he hated being pitied.

"Well, it's the same for all of us, you know. Even us "stupid apes". We lose people. We lose stuff and blow our chances. And it can happen at any time. We just don't have the practice that you do, so it still surprises us." She was quiet for a moment, and she could feel both his hearts beating under her cheek. She thought back to Sarah Jane's advice. "But when you only have one shot at it, you've got to be all in, force yourself to be in the now. Some things are just worth a broken heart in the end." She brought a hand to his chest. "But then, you've got two hearts and all kinds of lives. No wonder it hurts so much."

"Rose Tyler," he began with awed affection. "What am I going to do with you?"

She lifted her head and grinned. "I could make you a list..."

"Shameless flirt, you are." His hands went to her face, pushing back her hair, weaving his fingers through it. "I don't deserve you."

"No you don't," she told him lightly, though his rather solemn admission caused her to blink away tears and she dropped her head back to his chest to hide them. "You deserve so much better. But I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

His arms went around her again and he pressed his lips to the top of her head. They were entering rather interesting territory, and the Doctor found himself wondering if maybe -

And then there was a knock at the door. "Rose? Sorry, saw your light on. I'm too hungry to sleep, but I can't find the kitchen."

She groaned and sat up. "Give me a minute," she called to Mickey. "I'll meet you in your room." She looked down at the Doctor with an exasperated expression. "Can I rethink my earlier opinion about dropping him back home?"

The Doctor chuckled and started to extract himself from the covers.

"Oi, where do you think you're going?"

"To bed."

"You're in bed."

"True, but if I stay here I have a feeling neither of us are going to get any sleep."

She raised a coy eyebrow. "Really?"

"Again with the flirting! Honestly, bringing your boyfriend aboard has certainly had a different effect than I would have expected."

Rose was on her feet now and slipping into her robe. "He's NOT my boyfriend," she growled. "So don't be starting that again."

The Doctor followed her into the hall and they paused outside of Mickey's room. "So, where to tomorrow?"

"I don't know. Maybe we'll let Mickey choose, yeah?"

"Yeah. Or we can just hang out here. I'm not in a hurry."

Rose was beyond pleased to hear him say that. It seemed a healthy turn. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug which he returned easily. "You'll come find me if you can't sleep, yeah?" she mumbled into his shoulder.

He pulled back to look at her, his hands going to her hips as hers rested lightly on his chest. "I will. But I think I'm alright now. Relatively speaking."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

And when he smiled, for once she believed him.


	9. Interlude: Casual

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Ten  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place sometime before "Love and Monsters", and after chapter 11 ("Believe") of this story.  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>Jackie begins to see things as they are.

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><p>Neither of them had ever given much serious thought to the way they would look to others if they stopped long enough for someone who mattered to really notice. They were what they were and they acted the way they acted.<p>

And yet, whenever they found themselves in Powell Estate, both Rose and the Doctor tended to change the way they treated each other. Again, this wasn't the result of conscious consideration. And if someone had asked them why, they probably would have been surprised they were doing it at all.

But after their encounter with "Satan", whether that was even a causal factor, something seemed to have changed. Unnoticed by them, but not by Jackie.

They were on the couch together, the Doctor and Rose, recounting adventures a little less traumatic and considerably more mom-friendly than their dance with the devil. Jackie sat across from them, listening, reacting, but also watching.

Watching hands linger - on thighs, forearms, shoulders, necks.

Watching expressions - unguarded affection, pride, concern for the other, the shared twinkling glances she knew full well signaled just how carefully they were editing their accounts for her benefit.

Watching body language - the way they turned toward each other, they way one would lean in and then fail to lean out.

And then when she returned from attending to tea, she found them with the TV on but ignoring it, speaking in low tones not to shut her out, but because their closeness required no greater volume. Rose turned sideways, her legs tented over the Doctor's. One of the Doctor's arms around her, hand low on her back. The other relaxed, fingers curled around her ankle. Chuckling over some trivial matter.

And when they saw her, they simply smiled, untangled, followed her to the kitchen to eat. They weren't embarrassed, they weren't hiding something, and they obviously didn't feel anything needed to be explained. It screamed of a quiet, unheated intimacy.

Perhaps it was the lack of heat that was the most telling. While they were never that demonstrative in her presence, Jackie had always felt the Doctor to be a big flirt, at least since he'd regenerated. And her daughter had been twirling boys around her little finger since she was old enough to bat her eyelashes.

But this display wasn't flirting. It was all so casual, so comfortable.

And it broke her heart, because Jackie knew how happy her daughter was. And she knew it couldn't last.


	10. Jack

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Nine  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place sometime between "The Doctor Dances" (1x10) and "Boomtown" (1x11). No significant spoilers.  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>Captain Jack's presence aboard the TARDIS makes life even more interesting. But some of the most important things remain "better with two".

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><p>The addition of Jack Harkness to their little crew only stood to make every adventure seem bigger and more outrageous, somehow.<p>

Building an immunity fairly quickly to his incessant flirting - seeing him use the same tactics on the Doctor as he did on her certainly helped with that - Rose learned to take his constant advances in stride. She couldn't quite view him with brotherly affection, not when his hands would often migrate south during a hug for a friendly squeeze. But neither was she getting tongue tied when he would stand too close and pour on the charm. Jack was just... Jack. And she was happy to have him along for the ride.

The Doctor seemed to sense this change in her and was able to relax and join in the fun. It didn't stop him from barking out the occasional warning ("Oi, you! Hands!") when Jack would get carried away, but overall he was more jovial and more engaged than Rose had ever seen him.

They'd just spent a ridiculous day on a far off planet at a far off time that Rose had forgotten since she'd been told that morning before departure. The culture and the creatures she'd encountered were so strange and foreign that the "when" didn't seem as important as the "where".

The natives were a lovely "people" (a term Rose found herself applying loosely) who loved to "laugh" (again, a loose application) and enjoy themselves. They welcomed the off-worlders with open "arms" (yes, again) and the trio flitted from experience to experience with wonder and whimsy. And Rose was never without a hand to hold.

Saying goodbye to their new friends, Rose hopped on Jack's back for part of the return walk to the TARDIS, the Doctor carrying her jumper , socks and trainers. Though she was tired, it was she who suggested a quick detour to the approximation of a lake they'd spied on their way to the village, nearly hidden behind dense foliage. Now as they poked their way through they found a grassy shore and Jack eased Rose to the ground so she could walk barefoot right down to the cool water.

"It's pink," she remarked. "Like, actually pink."

"Yep," the Doctor agreed, not bothering to expound on the science behind it as he dropped her belongings and took off his leather jacket, spreading it out on the ground and sitting on it cross-legged. "Moons'll be rising soon. I've heard that's a sight to behold."

"Take a picture of me and Jack, yeah?" Rose called to him, and the Doctor fished through the pocket of her jumper for her mobile, capturing several images of them hamming it up. The pair then ran up to scroll through them, laughing.

"Now the two of you," Jack suggested.

"Oh, you don't want a picture with this daft old face," the Doctor began, but Rose was all but in his lap and smiling toward Jack when the Doctor finally relented, his arms snaking around her middle as he put his chin on her shoulder to mug for the camera. Then Jack closed in behind them and held out the phone as far as he could. It took a few tries to get all three in the frame, but he eventually managed.

Moon rise was stunning, heavenly bodies nearly filling the horizon, and it captivated them for a long time as they watched mostly in comfortable silence. When the moons were high enough in the sky, using her jumper folded in the Doctor's lap as a pillow Rose stretched onto her back in the grass and Jack lay perpendicular, forming a T with their bodies as he lay his head on her stomach.

"My boys," she breathed contentedly, one hand in Jack's hair and the other reaching back to find the Doctor's, pulling it under her chin. "Going to be hard to top this one. What a perfect day."

"You lot," the Doctor said with feigned disapproval. "So easily impressed. Just wait 'til you see what I've got in mind for TOMORROW..."

Rose walked back to the TARDIS between them, hands linked on both sides. Her boys, indeed. When it was in sight: "Last one to the TARDIS does the cooking!" Exchanging a look, they let her win. Rose was brilliant at many things, but not at ALL things.

After getting cleaned up, Jack and the Doctor worked together in the kitchen, preparing some light and simple foods that wouldn't keep the humans from sleep. When Rose joined them her hair, pulled into a pony tail, was still slightly dripping from the shower, leaving a wet spot on the back of the tight pink tank top she wore over loose flannel pajama pants. They laughed and joked and ate until the food was gone.

"Well, that's it for me," Rose finally announced. "I'm knackered."

"Watch a movie before bed?" Jack asked hopefully. Rose suspected he enjoyed the cuddling more than the films they'd been going through, but she enjoyed both so it didn't matter to her.

She was considering his suggestion when the Doctor pulled a book out of his jacket pocket and held it up to her from behind Jack's back. Immediately her decision was made. "I'd love to, but I'm afraid I've just had a better offer come up."

Jack turned to look at the Doctor, but he was already sauntering away.

"Don't suppose you'd need a chaperone? Or a third wheel?"

She wrapped her arms around Jack and pulled him into a tight hug before kissing him firmly on the lips. "Sorry, mate. Private party."

"I know, I know. I'm out of my league."

"And don't you forget it!" She kissed him again. "G'night!" And then she was off.

Rose checked the library, then her room, and then finally made her way to the Doctor's room. "Wasn't expecting to find you in here."

"I figured it was the best place for the two of us to hole up where we wouldn't be disturbed. We've fallen behind on our reading."

"I didn't realize we were on a schedule. But couldn't he find us here as easily as anywhere?" she asked as she climbed onto his bed and tucked herself in.

"Perception filter on the door," he said as though it was the most natural explanation in the world.

Her eyes narrowed. "Then how come I can see it?"

"Because I want you to."

She favoured him with a tongue-touched grin.

The Doctor was topless with a towel tied low around his hips, having just stepped out of the shower. "Would you mind?"

Rose flipped onto her stomach, hiding her eyes in one of the pillows to give him some privacy. "This really was a brilliant day."

"As you say."

"I DO say. Didn't you enjoy it?"

"It's always a laugh watching the two of you carry on like a couple of kids."

"You weren't exactly the picture of maturity, old man," she teased him.

"Truth be told, half the time with you lot I don't feel a day over 400."

"Well, I'm glad you've taken to slumming it with us "young people". I think it rather suits you, Doctor." She turned onto her side as he slipped under the covers with her, dressed now in comfortable sleep clothes. His bare feet were warm against hers. "You're liking having him on with us, aren't you." It wasn't exactly a question.

"I'd like it better if he was a little less touchy-feely," he told her curmudgeonly, taking the book from the bedside table.

Was that jealousy? The thought strangely warmed her. "Oh, it's not so bad," she told him with a smile. "I think he's calmed down quite much since I first met him. He hasn't tried to undo my bra in at least two days." Mind you, the Doctor's reaction to his last attempt may have had something to do with that.

"I was talking about with ME," he all but growled. "There's only one person in this TARDIS that I'd care to hold hands with, and Jack Harkness it is NOT."

She laughed gaily at that. "Well, I'm glad he's here. So, you gonna read first?"

He hesitated. "We can invite him, if you'd like." It's not that the Doctor felt particularly opposed to the idea. He really did like Jack, and after all, they WERE just reading. But he'd come to cherish these times, alone and comfortable and settled. Enjoying the story. Enjoying each other.

"Nah," she responded easily, as if it didn't bear considering. "Some things are still better with two."

"Rose Tyler." His voice was full of affection.

"That's me!" she responded cheekily, curling her fingers around one of his hands even as it held the book upright on his chest.

Truth be told, she preferred holding his hand, too.

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><p><em><strong>Enjoying this story? Please leave a review!<strong>_


	11. Believe

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Ten  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place immediately after "The Satan Pit" (2x10). Spoilers for "The Impossible Planet" and "The Satan Pit".  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>"...Except that implies...that she's just a victim. But... if I believe in one thing, just one thing, I believe in her."

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><p>This was a different kind of debrief than they'd ever engaged in. Of course, it had been a different kind of adventure. Facing being stranded without the TARDIS - that had happened more than once. Facing the certain death of both of them - that was rather run of the mill by this time. Facing the Devil himself - THAT was new. And the combination of the three had a potent effect on them both.<p>

"Where are we going, exactly? And when?"

"Doesn't matter," he told her, the hand that would normally be in hers instead curled snugly around her hip, keeping her close at his side.

Not that they often stopped for mutual reflection. Whenever possible it was simply on to the next destination, or off to bed. Rose had come to expect danger, had learned to appreciate that it was a part of the journey. And she trusted the Doctor to get her out of it in the end. More and more she even trusted herself to be at least a part of their salvation.

The door of the TARDIS opened in on a smokey hallway. The bar was busy, the noise incredible. The future, she guessed immediately, as among the species she recognized and the many she didn't there were humans intermixed. The movement around her precluded her ability to sense if they were stationary, so she broke off from him briefly to peek out a dingy window. Trees, kind of; apparently they were on a planet somewhere.

"Why did you bring me here?" she all but shouted, close to his ear.

He waved her off her question, pulling her close again. She wrapped an answering arm around him as he ushered her through the crowd.

He flashed the psychic paper at what Rose assumed must be the equivalent of a bouncer and they were allowed to pass into a smaller area. Booths lined the walls, the only light coming from the shaded bulb above each, the volume in the room seeming doused to match.

Rose felt grimy, and not just because of the atmosphere. He hadn't given either of them a chance to get cleaned up before dragging them away; he'd simply stripped off his orange environmental suit, said his goodbyes, and off they'd popped. So now she was reaching inside his jacket to retrieve his sonic screwdriver, and expertly switching to one of the dozen or so settings he'd instructed her in so far. "Is it weird to do this in public?" she asked as she passed it over herself from head to toe.

"Probably. Give it here." He repeated the motion on himself.

While they both preferred to take an actual shower the old fashioned way, this always did them in a pinch. And while she didn't exactly feel refreshed, she did feel better.

Their booth was tiny. They sat across from each other and were able to speak in low tones without their voices getting lost.

She filled him in quickly on all that had happened in his absence. Now that it was over it was just a great story to tell, and she basked in his praise for her brilliant thinking, of her leadership, her bold actions. Only the foot that laid against his that just wouldn't stop tapping revealed her agitation. She had been terrified, and it would take some time for that to completely leave her system.

As always, the Doctor was more guarded, using the arrival of food and drink as an excuse to pick away at his side of the story. Thankfully she was obliged to focus on the flash and not the feelings. For now.

"So he was enormous."

"Huge. We're talking skyscrapers. It was unreal." The Doctor always did have the best "big fish" stories. "And I've seen a lot of things, as you well know. There's not a lot that surprises me anymore." He went on to make several wordy comparisons.

"How did you end up in the pit?" Rose finally broke in. "She said you fell."

"We-ell, you know me." He scratched the back of his neck; a guilty gesture. "Always a bit clumsy."

"You jumped, didn't you." Not a question.

"We were going to run out of air," he reasoned. "It was that or sit and wait to asphyxiate. I should also point out the it DID all work out for the best."

A waiter cleared their table, and they ordered more drinks. The interruption helped her to make her next statement without giving in to the emotion behind it. "You didn't say goodbye." Rose smiled and scoffed at hearing how ridiculous she sounded, and he smiled back. Then she was serious again. "When you were falling... Ida told me that you said my name."

"Said a bit more than that," he admitted, suddenly keen to look anywhere but at her. "Wanted to leave you a grand farewell speech."

Her eyes narrowed in confusion. "Well, she didn't give me the message."

"Yeah, that's because there wasn't one." He busied himself with the drink that had just arrived. "This is brilliant. You should try it."

She took it from him and sipped, humming in agreement. "I don't get it. Was there a grand farewell or wasn't there?"

He sniffed, eyebrow cocked, gripping the glass. "I knew you'd know."

She took a moment to consider the statement, looked at him with scrutiny, biting her lip. Then her expression softened and she took his hand.

He beamed at her. "Besides, I wasn't convinced that all was lost. Stuck playing house on some planet somewhere might have been the best we could hope for without the TARDIS, but despite the odds - and despite the "oods" I guess, if you'll pardon the pun - I fully expected to see you again."

Her expression said it all.

"Okay, maybe not FULLY," he backtracked. "But based on previous experiences and the statistical probability of -

"Why are we talking about this here and not back on the TARDIS?" Despite her earlier question, it had only now just occurred to her what it might mean.

"I thought you'd appreciate the atmosphere," he said lightly.

"You thought if we talked about it in public we'd be less likely to fall apart over it." There was the slightest change in his eyes, and she knew she'd caught him.

And he knew that SHE knew. "We-ell..." He ran a hand through his hair, a little embarrassed. "Really I thought there'd be less chance of you screaming at me for jumping down a pit."

"Nothing to worry about there. There's no statute of limitations on that kind of stupidity. The screaming will come when you least expect it." She downed the rest of her drink in one gulp. "Okay, I need to take a proper shower, and maybe sleep for a week. Back home, yeah?"

He looked at her fondly. "Do you really think of it as home, Rose?"

"'Course I do. Don't be stupid." Tongue in teeth, she grinned and hauled him to his feet. "Hope you got money...whatever counts for money wherever this is."

"Don't worry; they'll put it on my tab." His hand found hers as he led her out the way they'd come.

"Oh, really?" She pressed against his side, her free hand curling around his elbow. "You come here often?" she asked in a playful, sultry voice.

"Rose Tyler," he said proudly. "Defeats the devil and still has the energy to chat up a guy at a bar. My kind of woman, you are."

"And don't you forget it!"

Back in the TARDIS, he walked her to her door. "You should sleep well, anyway," he commented conversationally.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that." She looked down at their entwined fingers, hesitating, leaning heavily against the wall.

It was unlike Rose to be so transparent in her weakness. Following his example, he supposed, and he hated himself for it. So when there WAS a crack in her tough exterior, he felt obligated to take advantage of it.

"You go take a shower. Meet you back here in 20 minutes and we'll both give it a good effort. What do you say?"

Her confidence seemed to return all at once. "Make it 30 and you've got a deal."

Maybe 'obligated' wasn't quite right word. Her smile warmed him to the core.

Rose was already in bed when he returned, and with no pretense he turned off the light and climbed in next to her. They were both laying on their backs, arms touching, hands finding each other in the dark.

They talked for a long time. Talked about Ida and the boys. Talked about the Ood, and how terrible it was that they'd all been lost. Talked - and laughed - about how they might have ended up if they'd been forced to set up house together and stay on the slow path. He teased her about how she'd essentially asked him to move in with her, share a mortgage, and then teased her again about how embarrassed it made her. Then there was a long silence before Rose spoke up again, dropping his hand and turning her body towards him.

"Doctor..."

"Hmm?"

"I know you said it lied... when it told me I was going to die in battle..."

"The devil preys on our worst fears. In almost any mythology you can think of, that's really its greatest weapon." He was about to launch into a history lesson when he had a more pressing thought. "Is that what you're scared of, Rose? Dying in battle?"

"No."

He hadn't expected such a solid, resolute answer. He rolled onto his side and propped his head up with his arm to look her in the eye. Waiting.

"It's not the dying. Not really." She smiled and sighed. "I mean, I don't look forward to it. But I've already done more living with you then anyone should get to do." Her voice caught, just slightly, and she brought a hand to his face. "I'm so lucky. All of the incredible things... Everything you've given me..."

For the first time, the Doctor thought she was going to kiss him. But before he could react - however it was that he would have reacted - the moment passed and she let her hand drop.

"What then?"

A long pause as she averted her gaze. Finally: "If I died, you'd be alone again."

There was so much he could have said just then, and all the options seemed to enter his mind at once. Yet all he managed to express was "Oh."

"I tried to wait for you, you know," she went on quickly. "I knew... I believed you were still there. I told them I wouldn't leave you. But they drugged me, carried me out."

"Good thing, too."

"Yeah, I guess." Her voice changed as she answered him. Suddenly she was feeling sheepish.

And then he was gathering her in his arms, and the gesture made tears come to her eyes. "Rose..."

"Five and a half hours, you told me once," she sniffed. "But I wasn't exactly watching the clock."

They both laughed and then settled back. He'd pulled her half on top of him, found the weight comforting, the heat of her body relaxing. Even though the nuzzle of her nose against his cheek, her fingers on the back of his neck, the feel of her breath on his skin... That was all a little LESS than relaxing.

"He tried to make it seem like he knew me." A long time had passed before she'd spoken again. "'The lost girl', he called me. 'Far from home'."

"But he was wrong." He turned his head slightly, their noses touching, her lips brushing against his with the lightest of touches when she answered.

"Because I'm not lost. And I AM home."

The look they shared then lasted only a moment, but quite long enough for her to fully understand the message he'd failed to leave her before falling into the pit. And as he pulled away they just smiled at each other, nothing more needing to be said. She turned in his arms and he wrapped himself around her, a warm cocoon, her earlier fears of not being able to sleep vanished, banished.

This woman. This "valiant child". In all his travels, to have met someone who finally made him so willing to break his own rules. But then, as he'd told Ida, that was his whole reason for travelling - to be proven wrong about what he was sure was right.

"Oh, 'm sorry. Did you want to read?" Rose roused herself from near-sleep to ask the question.

"Nah," he assured her. "We met the devil today. Makes Potter seem a little trite, don't you think?"

"Some day they'll write stories about us," she mused, yawning. "The Doctor and Rose Tyler, in the TARDIS."

"The stuff of legend."

And as he thought about their next chapter, she fell asleep.

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><p><em><strong>Reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading and sharing your comments!<strong>_


	12. Still

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Ten  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place immediately before "Army of Ghosts" (2x13).  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>(The Doctor to Martha in "The Shakespeare Code (3x2)) "...Wait till you read book 7. Oh, I cried."  
><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE: <strong>Despite where we leave our heroes at this chapter's end, this story is far from over. If you are enjoying their journey, please follow and review!

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><p>The first hour of the three hour ferry ride had been breath-taking: watching the sun set over the gentle waves, the backdrop of the towering mountain ranges, gazing into the waters that seemed to teem with life. But now it was dark and cold, and the indigenous species apparently weren't much for conversation after their moons took to the sky. Rose found this out very quickly after they'd retired from the deck to the passenger cabin and became subject to the glares of people who had not long ago seemed very welcoming and kind.<p>

"It's a superstition that sprung up hundreds of years ago, long enough now that no one remembers the reason behind it," the Doctor explained quietly, bent close to Rose's ear. "Now it's just become a part of their culture. It's not that it's considered bad luck exactly," he went on, dropping his voice even lower as a traveler sitting near them shot them a disapproving look. "Just bad form."

And so the Doctor and Rose found themselves with two hours to kill in silence, as their whispering (they learned after being shushed several times) apparently wasn't going to cut it.

The cabin really wasn't equipped for entertainment. They had already read all of the informational posters and brochures on their way over to the Island where they'd spent the day immersed in a reenactment of one of the planet's most interesting and famous periods of history. ("Why aren't we just going to see the real thing?" Rose had asked. "Ah, but everyone loves a good reenactment," was his answer. "Less blood, more gift shops. I LOVE a gift shop...") The combination of the actual outdoor setting, realistic portrayals by the actors, and rather advanced technology had turned out to be quite impressive and completely enjoyable for Rose, even if the Doctor was being a bit insufferable with his side-comments about how they hadn't gotten this or that quite right. And when she saw some suspiciously TARDIS-shaped knickknacks being pedaled, she realized they couldn't go back to the original event because he'd already been there. It also explained why they'd left the TARDIS hidden on the mainland and taken the ferry in the first place.

Rose tried dozing for awhile. They had a bench to themselves and it was long enough that she could kick off her shoes and lay across it, her head on the cushioned armrest, her knees bent as she curled on her side, her feet against his outer thigh. But the Doctor was restless and fidgety, and so she felt obliged to try to entertain him. She got paper and pens from the Purser's office and occupied him for awhile with some old standards of her childhood - S.O.S., Blocks, Hangman - but the first two weren't quite his speed and the last was giving them the giggles which got them shushed all the more.

"I'm hungry," Rose wrote under the Doctor's last attempt to stump her, which had nearly succeeded not because she hadn't figured out the word but because she couldn't figure out how to spell Raxacoricofallapatorius.

The Doctor reached into one of his bigger-on-the-inside pockets and pulled out some fruit snacks and her favourite kind of chocolate chip granola bars. She mimed for a drink and he extended his search, his eyes lighting up when he happened upon something he'd forgotten was in there. Triumphantly and with a flourish, he presented the seventh Harry Potter novel which they were more than half-way through.

Rose was skeptical, as she knew the Doctor could read much faster than her; she wasn't sure she could enjoy the book knowing he was over her shoulder waiting for her to hurry up and turn the page. But, it couldn't hurt to try. She finished her snack and the rather warm but adequately refreshing juice pack he'd offered, then settled herself cross-legged with the book in her lap. He leaned in, extending an arm along the bench behind her shoulders, and they began to read.

After five or six pages, Rose felt the Doctor's hand brush her hair to the side as his fingers found the back of her neck, first lightly caressing then settling there. Later, as the chapter ended, she glanced over and saw that his eyes were trailing around the room. She wondered if she'd read so slowly he'd given up.

"I'm listening," he murmured next to her ear. And when he saw the look of realization that came over her, he was quick to add, "I hope that's alright."

"I thought your little 'mind melds' weren't supposed to be recreational," she teased as quietly as she could, not at all put off that he'd presumed to lurk around the edge of her thoughts without bothering to ask permission.

He just shrugged. "Desperate times..."

This was the first time since she'd pressed him to help her remember the events on the Game Station that they'd even mentioned the possibility of a repeat experience let alone engaged in it. Rose had been afraid she'd seem too needy requesting such an intimate activity, especially since it was the intimacy that attracted her to it. For the Doctor, it was the intimacy that repelled him; the part of him that felt a sense of dread, of something in the air, warned him that if he got any closer to her than he already was, when he inevitably lost her he might never recover.

For him to have initiated the connection so thoughtlessly, so easily, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, it meant something. Something more than either of them were willing to dwell on.

And so she just read on. His mind pressed in closer, not just focused on her words but on the feelings attached. And when Rose found herself choked up by the story, their connection found the Doctor crying too, silently, his tears soaking the thin fabric covering her shoulder when he ducked his head to hide his reaction.

Of course he couldn't hide. She kept reading until the end of the chapter, then closed the book and felt him sever their connection. Turning towards him she couldn't help but tease as she swiped at her own tears and then at his with her sleeve. "You're such a softy you got ME crying," she accused quietly.

"I think not; that was a one-way link. Honestly, Rose - getting so emotional over a children's book."

Two "shushes" from either side of them saved the Doctor from Rose's retort.

The lights of the mainland were coming into view, and with a gesture the Doctor silently suggested they follow the lead of a few others who were headed back to the deck for the final leg of their journey.

There was a biting chill in the air, and as the inhabitants of this planet were more sensitive to extreme temperatures it was only off-worlders who had joined them, all seeming more than willing to brave the cold in order to have the freedom to converse - still in low tones, just in case - without judgement.

The water was so still. Everything was still, except of course for their boat which seemed to sail effortlessly, the engines almost undetectable. The Doctor leaned back against the railing and Rose settled close beside him, peering out over the dark water, asking him about some of the creatures she'd seen there before the sun had set.

By the time he'd exhausted his knowledge of the subject, Rose was shivering and her teeth chattering loud enough for him to hear. "Blimey, it's cold! How can you stand it?" But then she answered her own question with a laugh. "Yes, I know, I know. 'Superior Time Lord physiology'." She'd certainly heard that enough.

"Or maybe my coat is just warmer-on-the-inside," he suggested cheekily, pulling her toward him, enfolding her in his coat as her arms wrapped themselves tightly around his middle. They stayed like this for a long time, her cheek against his chest, clinging as a delicious heat grew between them. The Doctor hummed with contentment and rested his chin on the top of her head. And despite the fact that they were now free to speak, the silence - the stillness - was suddenly enough.

"So, still okay to stop in to my mum's?" Rose finally spoke as they approached the dock.

The Doctor made a disheartened noise. "You certainly know how to kill the mood."

She chuckled. "And which 'mood' would that be, exactly?"

"Does it matter? The thought of visiting your mum is enough to kill ANY mood." He released her and shrugged out of his top coat, removing his suit jacket and helping her wrap it around her shoulders. His chivalry bought her forgiveness for insulting her mother.

Awhile back Rose had asked to sync their returns to visit Jackie with how long she'd been gone, from Rose's perspective. Harder on her mum, perhaps, but definitely easier on Rose, allowing her to maintain some sense of the passage of time. As such, to return now would mean that it had been awhile for Jackie, and Rose thought it might be nice to pick her up a present.

"I've got just the place," the Doctor told her as he helped her off the boat, ignoring the obvious displeasure of silent natives waiting in line to disembark. "There's this planet that was abandoned by sentient life before humans were walking upright, but they spread out into the system and they have this market on this asteroid that's a complete tourist trap, but great for picking up high-tech bits and bobs that aren't likely to corrupt your timeline should they fall into wrong hands. And the planet itself... well, you've got to see it."

"I thought you said it was abandoned."

"It was; atmosphere got a bit hostile for the lot on the ground, but in the sky... The TARDIS will be able to create us a pocket of breathable air. You'll love it."

"Okay, so quick shop, quick stop, finish our book, get some sleep, then off to mums, yeah?"

"The best laid plans..."

They took a tram of sorts back to where the hidden TARDIS was waiting for them, obliged to cease their conversation again due to the close quarters. When they reached their destination and closed the doors behind them, Rose all but shouted in relief and the Doctor turned on loud music and proceeded to sing along as he took them into the time vortex and brought them to the asteroid market for a quick shopping trip as promised.

It wasn't exactly quick, which the Doctor had well expected from his previous experiences taking her shopping, but it was at least safe enough that she could go off on her own while he dickered with electronic vendors over parts and food vendors over staples to restock the TARDIS kitchen. Everything was put away and he was about to call her on her mobile from the TARDIS when she breezed in the doors, chattering happily about all she'd seen.

"Still want to hop down to the planet?"

"'course! Just give me a sec - I'll be back by the time we land."

But the Doctor had an extra treat in store in between.

"You want to drive?" he asked casually when Rose had returned from her room where she'd dropped off the bazoolium for her mum and a few other items she'd picked up for herself.

Her eyes widened, as did her grin. "Really?!"

"Well, I say 'drive', but it would really be more of helping ME drive. We-ell, I say 'helping me', but -"

And then he could no longer speak, because his mouth was otherwise occupied. The kiss - fairly quick, fairly chaste, just a 'thanks' - was more than enough to shut him up.

They spent the next hour or so at the console. Her learning the names of buttons and switches, acting sufficiently impressed to stroke his ego about how amazing it was that he could pilot them, with all the variables he had to take into account each and every time the TARDIS was in flight. Him pretending that it was necessary to stand so close to her, to guide her hands over the controls, to reward her with the squeeze of his fingers at her hip or - once or twice - a brush of his lips to the side of her neck when she was especially clever. Or just made a good attempt.

Unable to draw the lesson out any longer, he helped her input their destination, set the necessary controls, and pull the final lever to send them on their way. When he offered a hand to pick her up off the floor, she was beaming so widely he thought his hearts might burst.

As they stood side by side looking up at the amazing scene before them, he turned to her and asked, "How long are you gonna stay with me?" And her simple, sincere answer of "forever" found him with tears in his eyes for the second time that day.

Next on their schedule was "book", but they took a break so Rose could prepare for bed. She met him in the sitting room she'd recently discovered when looking for the tennis court during one of her few 'sporty' inclinations. Well, HE called it a sitting room. SHE called it 'the roof'. It had two features that Rose adored: the L-shaped couch, and the fact that there appeared to be no real walls and no ceiling at all, the room opening into space. An illusion, the Doctor had told her, but it didn't matter.

Book in hand, she sighed, feeling suddenly nostalgic. "It feels like a life-time ago that we started this."

"For me, it really was," he pointed out.

"I miss that 'daft old face'," she teased, tugging playfully on his earlobe.

The Doctor, his usual 'uniform' reduced to t-shirt and trousers, was propped up against the back of the couch, his legs stretched out over half of the 'L'. Rose was similarly settled, her legs bent over his, enjoying the feel of his hand on the bare skin of her calf. She was wearing the new night shirt she'd picked up at the market over a pair of shorts that left little to the imagination, but he'd certainly seen her in less. And he assumed correctly that she hadn't chosen her apparel with the intention of showing off her body; it was simply a reflection of their comfort with each other.

That didn't mean he didn't like what he saw.

The clip lamp he'd brought provided just enough light to read without straining their eyes. The rest of the room was dimly illuminated by the stars overhead. With Rose's head thrown back against the couch as she gazed at the 'sky', the Doctor guessed it was his turn to start.

After a paragraph Rose's hand was behind his neck. After a page that same hand clamped over his mouth.

He bit her finger in retaliation, soothed it with a kiss, then took her hand in his. "That supposed to be a hint?"

She didn't answer, just grinning cutely at him. She couldn't ask for this, wouldn't let herself, but he knew what she wanted and he had started it, after all.

So she enjoyed the rest of the story with his voice only in her head as she watched the stars. And when it was over, in the moment before he broke their connection, she could feel his disappointment - not at how the story had ended, but at how this meant an ending of their special time together.

"There's lots of books in the universe, just waiting for us to read," she assured him, chuffed at the realization that this had meant as much to him as it had to her. Her hand returned to the back of his neck, scratching along his hairline in the way she knew he liked.

Switching off the clip light and tossing the book aside, he sighed heavily, happily, leaning into her touch before allowing himself to lean into her, curling sideways so that his head came to rest on her shoulder, her chest.

The hand that had caressed him slipped down his back and the other took up the task, alternately smoothing and spiking his hair between her fingers. One of his arms snuck behind her where she slouched, better supporting his weight. His left hand returned to the smooth skin of her calf, her legs remaining bent over his.

So warm. So settled. So still.

When he awoke some time later, realizing he must be due for some sleep, one of his arms was numb. As he tried to carefully extract himself Rose stirred, grumpy at having been disturbed. He quietly suggested she stay there for the night, but she slurred something about needing to brush her teeth, so she allowed herself to be led by the hand to her room and, dropping a kiss on the top of her head, he pushed her gently through her door.

In his own room, the Doctor completed his sleep-night routine, choosing sonic over shower to expedite the process.

After the kind of day they'd had, he shouldn't have been surprised that not long after he'd climbed into his bed Rose was climbing in with him. She smelled of floral lotion when he pulled her close. And she tasted of spearmint toothpaste when she kissed him.

"Thank you," she mumbled sleepily against his lips. "This was a nice day."

"Many more to come, Rose Tyler," he promised. And after the briefest of hesitations, he was kissing her back.

He couldn't have known that the happy part of their story was nearly over. But later, looking back, he was glad that he'd made this day - and this night - count.


	13. Shift

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Nine  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place sometime between "The Doctor Dances" (1x10) and "Boomtown" (1x11), and after chapter 9 ("Jack") of this story. No significant spoilers.  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>Jack and Rose take shifts.

* * *

><p>"Rose? Psst... Rose - are you awake?"<p>

Rose was most definitely NOT awake. Cracking open one eye, she looked at the timepiece at Jack's bedside to learn she'd only been asleep for about five hours.

"Rose, you need to come see this!" Rose recognized his tone: this wasn't "the world is ending"; this was a kid at show-and-tell.

Not long ago she would have felt obliged to rouse herself, to follow the Doctor here or there to see whatever interesting or important thing he needed to show her JUST THEN. But times had changed, and now she had someone else to share the responsibility of keeping him occupied and keeping him company.

"Mmm... 's your turn," she mumbled, reaching across the bed and landing a hand on Jack's bare torso. She nudged and swatted until he finally responded.

"Whazgoinon?" he mumbled back.

"Doctor needs you. Your turn. Go."

Jack made a frustrated noise but rolled out of bed. "What's up, Doc?" he asked in the most cheerful voice he could manage. He really didn't mind, after all. And it WAS his turn. He pulled on a t-shirt as he followed the Doctor out of the room, leaving Rose to fall back to sleep.

While a little put off by Jack's shirtlessness, the Doctor hadn't been at all surprised or upset to find Rose in Jack's room. After all, they were right where he'd left them.

When they were about to begin the next book of the series, Rose had decided they should invite Jack to join them after all. But as Jack had never seen or read Harry Potter, Rose had suggested watching the first couple of movies to catch him up. They'd gotten a bit sidetracked - the adventures they were having in real life were so much better than any fiction on a screen - but Rose was in a reading mood again, which meant it had been time to get watching.

Jack had installed onto the wall of his bedroom a giant television of sorts from a time closer to his era, and with some jiggery-pokery on the part of the Doctor they'd adapted a 23rd century media player to connect. Rose had insisted on popcorn. Jack had insisted on just enough alcohol to make them all feel extra relaxed. The Doctor had insisted on parking himself in between them on the bed.

They giggled and talked through the first movie. By the second the humans were getting a little sleepy, so they settled in to simply watch. Jack and Rose tucked themselves in, and though the Doctor remained on top of the covers he did recline back further into the pillows that had been propping him upright, allowing a better angle for Rose (and for awhile, Jack) to lean into his shoulder.

Rose had fallen asleep just as the movie was ending and Jack was close to following her, so the Doctor had bid a quiet goodnight and left. That was five hours ago.

The Doctor had waited as long as he could, but to not share something so interesting that had led to him doing something so clever was against his nature. So while the Doctor would rather have spent the time with Rose, he was happy to show Jack what had made him so excited. And despite his fatigue, Jack couldn't deny that it had definitely been worth waking up for.

Later, Rose had taken her turn when the Doctor needed someone to hand him tools and be impressed. Jack had used the time to nap and recover. When finally everyone was rested, it was off to their next adventure. Far off planet in a far off time, watching history unfold and learning, as they often did, that they were always meant to be a part of it. Danger ensued, intrigue, a hell of a lot of running. Par for the course, exciting times had by all. Until they were met with a fixed point and the Doctor was forced to allow something terrible to happen. He'd known it was going to happen, of course, had been prepared for it, but couldn't have known that it was his necessary inaction that was to cause history to play out as it did.

When they returned somberly to the TARDIS, the Doctor simply left them with no explanation or 'good night'.

Jack sighed. "It's my turn," he told her, not with obligation but with compassion. "I'll go after him. You should get some sleep."

"No, I've got this one." She put her arms around him, squeezing affectionately. "Besides, he'll never let you find him."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Best get some rest, Captain. You'll need to take the next two shifts to get us back on schedule," she teased with a grin before taking her leave.

Rose found the Doctor's room with no difficulties, and while she knew he was risking him changing the settings on the perception filter in the future, she admitted herself without knocking. "Hey," she greeted evenly.

"I don't want to talk about."

"I know." She wasn't put off by him being so cross. She was used to it, and knew that she hadn't caused the anger that was being directed at her. "We don't have to talk."

Apparently the Doctor took that to heart because he didn't speak another word. He disappeared into his bathroom, his expression stormy.

While he was gone, Rose tidied his room and then pulled one of her books of his bookshelf and climbed onto his bed to wait patiently, sitting upright against the headboard.

When the Doctor emerged he ignored her completely, turning off all the lights except the one she was reading by and throwing himself atop the covers, laying on his stomach with his face turned away from her.

Outwardly at least, Rose ignored him right back. She was aware that he shouldn't need sleep, which indicated to her that this was just his way of not being alone without having to engage. If company was all he needed, then that's what she would provide.

A long time passed before he turned onto his back and lay with his eyes open, confirming her assumption. She could almost feel the tension in his body, and without looking up from her book she put a hand on his chest.

He sighed at the contact and glanced at her. She gave him the tiniest of smiles but stayed true to her word, keeping quiet until he chose to break the silence.

When her eyes began to sting with the need of sleep she knew it was time to give up and intended to retire to her own room. But when she lifted her hand from his chest she quickly found her wrist caught between his fingers.

"I thought this was to be Jack's shift," he commented wryly. He'd overheard them discussing their little arrangement awhile back and had started to keep track. He pulled her hand back down to his chest, covered it with his own.

"What can I say? The schedule is subject to change," she told him with a tongue-touched grin. "You going to sleep?"

"Nah. Think I'll keep working on the stabilizers."

"Well, if you need anyone to hand you things... go wake up Jack, okay?" she teased, crawling out of bed.

"If I must." He stretched and stood, following her from the room. "But I thought you said the schedule is subject to change."

"It is," she promised, giving him a fond look, taking his arm as they slowly walked down the corridor. "And if you ever need... company... you always know where to find me." They walked in companionable silence and then paused in front of her room. "This is my stop. You'll be okay?"

"I'm always okay," he said offhandedly, making her sigh. They said their goodnights and he started toward the console room before turning to say, "Hey, Rose?"

Her head popped out of her door. "Yes, Doctor?"

"I like it best when it's your shift."

She beamed at him, and went to bed.


	14. Interlude: Mourn

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Ten  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place during "The Christmas Invasion" (2x1) and after chapter 3 ("Pass or Fail") of this story, in the early morning before they depart from London.  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>Rose grieves for Jack.

* * *

><p>The Doctor felt much better when he awoke. He was alone, and though it was early he at first assumed that Rose had returned to her mum's flat. But when he rolled out of bed he stepped on one of the shoes she'd kicked off the night before.<p>

After a trip to the console room, he found her in Jack's room, buried in his covers, not sleeping, not crying.

She spoke when she finally noticed him in the doorway. "If he was okay, he would be here." It wasn't worded as a question, though she still hoped he'd set the record straight.

The Doctor said nothing.

"He was a hero," she said, through tears now. "He held them off, he sacrificed himself to give you the time you needed."

He blinked, looked down to the floor.

"And he loved us."

"Yes," the Doctor finally contributed. "And we loved him."

She began to sob then, and the Doctor sat beside her on the bed, rubbing her back to comfort her.

And he tried to convince himself it was better this way.


	15. Interlude: Kiss

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Ten  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place immediately before "Army of Ghosts" (2x13); and expands on the closing scene of chapter 12 ("Still") of this story.  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>They kiss.

* * *

><p>To say that it had all been leading up to this would have cheapened what they were to each other before it happened. As though their relationship up to that point hadn't been satisfying of itself, had always left them wanting more. Hadn't been enough.<p>

To say that they had crossed a line would be rubbish, as neither had ever needed or thought to draw one. It wasn't as though they'd been holding themselves back all along and had finally failed.

To blame it on hormones would simply have been untrue. As a Time Lord he was much more immune to baser urges than his human counterpart. And the hormonal aspect of their activities didn't even really kick in for her until his tongue entered her mouth.

That's not to say this wasn't new territory for them; while never strictly off-limits, kissing on the lips just wasn't something they'd done before. But after Rose had kissed him earlier that day, a gesture of pure joy and gratitude at his offer to teach her to drive the TARDIS, it had apparently been officially instated into their repertoire.

It had been a sweet moment. He had acted, she had reacted, and if he had been a bit thrown off it was only by the elation he'd felt over having made her so happy. The kiss itself had been incidental, really, but definitely comfortable. A fitting reflection of their affection and intimacy.

And so when she'd crawled half asleep into his bed that night and he'd pulled her close, it had been a thoughtless move for her to press her lips to his, brushing against him even as she spoke her thanks for the wonderful day he'd provided.

His moment of hesitation was not one of evaluation. There was no weighing of pros and cons, no considering or worrying. He simply needed a moment to look at her, her eyes already closing as she settled in. His beautiful friend. His caretaker and confidante. His running partner. His strength and joy. His savior in so many ways.

Yes, he only hesitated long enough to express his gratitude to the universe. He was thankful for her, and also thankful that he had a new way to show her how much she meant to him.

His kiss was slow, sweet, thorough, lasting only a minute. And when he pulled away and lay his head against her pillow, their noses touching, he beamed at her in the dark, and he knew she was beaming back even as she succumbed to sleep.

To say that it changed things between them would have been a lie, but a sad one. Who knows what would have changed, after all, if they'd only had the time.


	16. Fight

**Characters:** Rose/Nine, Jack  
><strong>Setting:<strong> During and just after "Boomtown" (1x11)  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Rose and the Doctor have an argument.

* * *

><p>Rose and Jack tended to bicker like brother and sister. But while she and the Doctor had the occasional disagreement, it tended to be only high stakes philosophical differences that could really set them against each other. Even then, Rose was always at least subconsciously wary of crossing him, afraid that someday she might push too far and he might push her out the door.<p>

After "Margaret" had made the point that the lot of them were in fact to be her executioners, leading her to her certain death by returning her to her home planet, none of them could meet her eye. And, Rose noticed, the Doctor wouldn't meet hers either. When the moment presented itself, she tugged his sleeve and pulled him just out of the room, but he shut her down before she could even open her mouth to say what he expected her to say.

"Don't start with me, Rose. This needs to be done."

"But -"

"No 'buts'. I've made my decision."

"That's all well and good, but what about the rest of us?" She was annoyed but still trying to reason. "You may be the designated driver, but you're going to make us all guilty of this."

"What, you think we should take a vote?" he growled. "This is not a democracy, Rose Tyler. And for good reason."

"Oi, what's that supposed to mean?" Now the true anger came. "I may not be a high-and-mighty Time Lord, but that doesn't mean I can't tell the difference between right and wrong."

"You humans with your paltry concepts of black and white." His voice was raised now, matching her intensity. "You're all idealism when it comes to things you can't possibly understand. Yet when it comes to the simple things right in front of you - like the way you treat your little boyfriend - apparently the rules don't extend to that."

That was a low blow and he instantly regretted it, but the damage was done.

"You're impossible when you get like this," she told him, disgust evident in her tone. "I don't know why I even bother."

Rose left him then, left the TARDIS altogether, eventually left with Mickey. And it was during their time of separation that they both realized the other was more or less right. Rose admitted it out loud ("He deserves better") and the Doctor admitted it to himself when the relief of having the choice taken away from him fully hit as he held the egg that would one day again become Blon Fel Fotch.

After a quick stop at Raxacoricofallapatorius, they went immediately on to their next adventure with no time to stop and reflect, and certainly no time to discuss. Jack had tried a few times to pry from Rose the story of what had happened with her and Mickey, but she'd made it clear there was nothing to talk about.

Eventually they were forced to take a break, as they always were when the Doctor's human companions simply ran out of steam. Promising them a trip to Japan, he bid them a quick goodnight, avoiding Rose's eyes once again, and retired to the garage to tinker and to find an escape from his own thoughts.

Somehow, though, he didn't manage to escape HER. "Brought you some tea," she said amicably when she found him sitting on the floor in front of a partially disassembled vehicle she couldn't quite identify.

"Thanks," he told her, taking a steaming cup from her hand and gesturing for her to sit. She did so, placing her cup on the floor and picking up some of the scattered parts to idly examine them. "How did you find me?"

"Same way I always find you," she said cheekily. "The TARDIS apparently doesn't approve of you hiding."

"Oi! I'm not hiding!"

"Well, whatever you're doing, she obviously doesn't like it, because this was the first door I tried, and I'm pretty sure your library used to be behind it." She grinned, then yawned. "So, what ARE you doing?"

"Picked this up a few dozen years back but never got it to work quite right. Thought I'd give it another go."

"Sure you did."

A long, awkward silence followed. Something neither of them were used to, not between them.

It was the Doctor who finally couldn't take it any longer. "I'm sorry," he blurted. "About Mickey, I mean."

Rose sighed. "I'm not. I mean, I'm sorry I acted the way I did. Really sorry, actually. I feel terrible. You were right."

"Doesn't matter. It's none of my business."

"It's totally your business!" she countered. "You're my best mate. If I'm acting rubbish, you're supposed to tell me."

The Doctor paused, glancing down into his tea, a small smile gracing his features at her easy admission. "I guess it goes both ways then, doesn't it."

She knew immediately what he meant, and suddenly felt the need to defend him. "I was wrong to question you. At least in the way I did."

"No, you weren't. This may not be a democracy, but I owed it to you both to at least talk with you about what needed to be done."

Suddenly her arms were around his neck. Chuckling, he set his tea aside and embraced her back.

"We good then?" she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Always, Rose Tyler." Releasing her, he stood, leaning to pick up his tea in one hand and help her up with the other. "I'm done hiding. Let's go read you to sleep, shall we?"

As they passed Jack's room the Doctor hammered on the door with his fist. "Oi, you. Book. Let's go."

Jack appeared shirtless, barefoot and bleary-eyed, but was happy to trail after them regardless. "So bossy. I love it."

Rose made a quick stop in the washroom before climbing under the covers of her bed where Jack had already gotten comfortable. He wrapped himself around her and as the soothing warmth built quickly she knew she'd be asleep in no time. Jack was already half way there. She considered suggesting to the Doctor that they forgo the reading that night, but then he was shedding his shoes and jacket and laying down atop of the covers on her other side, close enough for her forehead to rest against his shoulder.

She could stay awake awhile longer.

Partway through the chapter Jack started snoring lightly, and the Doctor paused, turning his head to look at her. "Am I really your best mate?"

She smiled and touched his cheek tenderly. "'Course you are. Don't be stupid. And I'm yours."

He chuckled at her confident proclamation. "Yes, I s'pose you are."

Rose was never afraid to fight with the Doctor again.


	17. Gamble

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Nine, Jack; Rose/Ten  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>First section takes place sometime between "The Doctor Dances" (1x10) and "Boomtown" (1x11), and after chapters 9, 12 and 15 of this story. Second section takes place between"New Earth" (2x1) and "Tooth and Claw" (2x2). No significant spoilers.  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>Bets.

* * *

><p>Rose had left when the giggling had started. Not regretting one bit the choice to refrain from taking Jack's little bet, she'd watched them gulp back shots of the blue liquor-type substance for about 15 minutes when the effects hit first Jack, and then the Doctor. The former was par for the course; she'd seen Jack tipsy on more than one occasion. But the latter made her first happy (not often she got to see the Doctor as a regular bloke) and then wary (suddenly unsure she wanted to).<p>

Rose didn't mind the chance to get away on her own; this was her first experience with what the Doctor referred to as a "pleasure planet", and after all their adventures she was no longer nervous about going out and meeting people without the Doctor holding her hand.

The resort they were visiting had a very diverse clientele, and Rose was not the only human in the spa area. She was quickly accepted by a group of 3 human women (and one humanoid...something or other) who were comparing their nails (and... something or other) and encouraging Rose to enjoy a mani-pedi before she departed. So after her massage she did just that, and was so impressed by the technology they'd used that she decided to splurge a bit with the credits the Doctor had provided and bought three colours to take with her.

Bidding farewell to her new friends, Rose returned to the bar where she'd left Jack and the Doctor, not really expecting to find them there but figuring it was a good place to start. She walked up to the bartender and asked, "Excuse me, do you remember the men I came in here with earlier this afternoon?"

"Certainly do. They both passed out, so we got them set up in a room."

Rose started to apologize but the man just laughed. "Boys will be boys. Tell you one thing, though - they're both going to have a hell of a headache when they wake up!"

And so following his instructions, Rose visited the check-in desk to inquire about their whereabouts and request a code for the door, which she was almost denied despite providing the credits to pay for the room. "I came here with them," Rose tried to reassure the clerk, a rather imposing figure from a species she didn't recognize. "They're my mates."

The clerk cocked what might have been an eyebrow and gave what might have been a little grin. "You're human, aren't you?"

Rose nodded. How strange to be getting used to that question.

"I didn't realize it was a human custom to take more than one mate at a time."

Rose started to correct him but he was already giving her the information she needed, so instead she just smiled and let it slide.

She found Jack and the Doctor laying on opposite sides of a large bed, fully clothed on top of the covers. Not relishing the thought of being there when they woke up, she wrote them a note and then set about trying to make them more comfortable. She managed with great difficulty to remove the Doctor's jacket, then took off each of their shoes. She rolled them onto their sides and propped them up to stay that way using the extra pillows and some towels, having done enough drinking in her high school days to be worried about them throwing up and choking.

Satisfied that they would survive the night, she grabbed her mobile and snapped some incriminating pictures to be used against one of both of them later, if necessary. When she returned the phone to her pocket, her hand brushed one of the nail polish applicators she had purchased, and she just couldn't resist.

Some time later Rose was waiting in the console room when her boys took their walk of shame. They looked horribly hung over, Jack barely able to stay upright, and she took no pity on them as they went directly to the medical bay to find the Doctor's "miracle cure", as Jack had called it more than once before. Ten minutes later, they were chipper again and laughing with her about the experience.

"So who won the bet?" Rose asked.

"Me," they answered in unison, then laughed again.

Rose left them arguing and went to make some breakfast, calling over her shoulder that they ought to "hit the showers".

She was lingering over oatmeal and a book when the Doctor joined her, hair wet and eyes narrowed.

"Hey, you," she greeted innocently. "Want me to make you some breakfast?"

"You took advantage of me," he accused with as much seriousness as he could muster. "While I was DRUNK, at that. How very low class of you."

"Whatever do you mean?" She batted her eyelashes and poured him some coffee.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that "no" means "no"?"

"Ooh, what did I miss?" Jack entered with a grin, barefoot and proud. "Thanks for the pedicure, Miss Rose. I really think it's my colour. She get you too, Doc?"

The Doctor was stoic in his shoes and socks.

"Sore subject, Jack," Rose warned him, laughing. "We were fighting about this LONG before you came aboard."

Just then the TARDIS was pitched to the side, and all the Doctor's thoughts of nail polish and teasing forgotten until many, many hours later.

Crisis averted and lives saved, the Doctor was now ransacking her room for nail polish remover as Jack and Rose watched with smiles from her bed.

"You won't find it there," Rose teased in a sing-song voice, not at all caring that he was rummaging through her underwear drawer. "You need a hint?"

The Doctor ignored her and kept grumbling under his breath about "women" and "domestics" and "foolishness".

Rose had shared the story with Jack earlier in the day during a break in the action, much to the Doctor's annoyance. It was hard to say how long ago it had happened - it was getting harder and harder for Rose to keep track of the passage of time - but once he'd wandered into her room to find her painting her toenails, and had told her it seemed like a silly thing to do since no one but him ever saw her toes anyway. He'd gone on to rant that considering their days were full of life-and-death and the saving of worlds, what either of them looked like really seemed a trivial matter. Her counter request had caught him off-guard: "Then can I paint YOUR toenails?" She followed up wryly on his rejection with the argument that if what either of them looked like didn't matter, he shouldn't care whether or not his nails were a pretty shade of pink.

Since then, any time he would comment - teasingly or otherwise - about her appearance, specifically about her bedhead or the grubby clothes she started wearing around the TARDIS once she'd moved beyond the inclination to attract or impress him, she would make a snarky retort suggesting a pedicure which would shut him down every time.

So to have done what she had done she considered to be a victory in a ridiculous battle that was low on rules and high on levity. And though he was acting irritated, she knew full well that he loved their little jokes, loved the intimacy of their friendship.

This was proven when he turned toward her about to demand she produce what he was searching for and saw her standing behind her bed with the nail polish remover in her hands, taunting him. With a growl, he took chase, following her into the hallway and catching her around the waist with one arm, lifting her off the ground and grabbing his prize out of her startled hand. Jack snapped a photo just before the Doctor tossed her on the bed.

* * *

><p>After their return from Kvell - their first adventure after the body-snatching insanity of New Earth - the Doctor found a pajama-clad Rose in Jack's room; he'd been a good friend, and the Doctor knew that she would have a hard time letting go. She was looking at the pictures stuck around Jack's mirror, remembering the times they'd had together, the sides of her mouth turning up as she focused on on the one of herself under the Doctor's arm, the nail polish remover being held out of her reach, both of them grinning madly in laughter.<p>

Standing beside her, the Doctor quietly took her hand.

"Must be so strange for you," she said eventually. "Seeing yourself in pictures, looking so different."

"Stranger for you, I imagine," he responded, though he was quietly pleased that she seemed to have accepted his regeneration with incredible ease, considering the circumstances and lack of warning. He was also pleased she seemed content to talk about him, rather than about Jack - the latter was a conversation he didn't know how to have.

"Oh, I don't know." She paused. "I guess it's pretty strange. But when I look at that face, I see you just as much as looking at you now." She squeezed his hand. "You feel different, though."

"What do you mean?"

"Haven't you noticed? In this body, we just kind of... fit." She chuckled, blushing a bit. "I mean, our hands are just... and when you hug me. Can't you feel it?" She pulled away from him then, embarrassed. "I'm probably just imagining it."

"Maybe not, actually," the Doctor told her, not embarrassed at all. He joined her on Jack's bed, where apparently she was planning to sleep because she was climbing under the covers. Shoes and all, the Doctor sat cross legged, facing her. "Regeneration is a dodgy thing. All kinds of factors come into play." He went on to spout some very scientific and impressive things, but it was how he ended that stuck with her. "In my last body, I knew you, knew yours. You were there when I regenerated. It's very possible that the way I ended up might have been influenced by you."

"You mean your new body... it could be like this because of me?"

He shrugged. "We do... fit."

She looked at him thoughtfully for a long while as she considered this, and he watched her right back, trying to interpret what he saw on her face. So he noticed when something in her eyes changed. He knew that glint. That was "sass".

"So if this body was made for me..."

"...Well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration..."

"...I think I should be able to at least paint your toe nails." She broke into a wide, contagious grin and he couldn't help but laugh.

"No means no, Rose Tyler, no matter what daft face I'm wearing." He stood then, knowing she was fading fast, needed to sleep. "You staying in here?"

"I think so." She settled in as the Doctor tucked Jack's covers up to her chin. "I really think you might reconsider," she told him wryly. "You are a bit pretty. Polish might suit you."

"I'm not sure whether to be offended by "pretty" or "a bit". But there will be no such shenanigans this time around, I promise you that."

He turned off the lights and was headed out of the room when he heard her say, a challenge in her voice, "I'll take that bet."

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Think others might enjoy this tale? Please review! (Your reviews help others know this is a story worth reading!)**


	18. Stuck

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Ten  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place between "New Earth" (2x2) and "Tooth and Claw" (2x3), and just before the second section of chapter 17 ("Gamble) of this story. Plot spoilers for "New Earth".  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong> Stuck in a small space, Rose takes the time to get to know her "new new Doctor".

* * *

><p>Seeing her "new new Doctor" filtered through someone else's eyes (even though biologically speaking they were still her own) had been a unique experience, to say the least. Prior to this latest adventure, Rose had convinced herself he was the same man, but the jumble of perceptions and not a small amount of lust that had run through Cassandra's mind (but Rose's brain) when they'd shared a body was a bit disorienting, and somehow the strange thoughts made him seem like even more of a stranger. So she found herself missing the man who at their first meeting had grabbed her hand and told her to run. Just a bit.<p>

After watching Cassandra die in her own arms, the Doctor and Rose felt the need to clear their heads and assert control back over their previously stolen bodies. The Doctor suggested a stroll through the ruins of Kvell, but had timed the landing wrong and had put them smack dab in the midst of the booming civilization of Kvell... where off-worlders were not at all welcome.

It didn't take the Doctor long to realize something wasn't right, but it wasn't before they had left the TARDIS in a basement and traveled up a flight of stairs and into what looked like a large meeting room. Rose had barely commented, "Wait, are those voices?" when the Doctor had grabbed her rather roughly by the arm and pulled her into a cupboard.

A very small cupboard, at least the part they could stand in. The rest was shelves of supplies, illuminated by a dim light he'd found immediately. Rose started to ask him what was going on, but he leaned in very close to breathe into her ear, "They have exceptional hearing. And they _will_ kill us if they find us." He grinned broadly, and she could only roll her eyes.

A gathering was commencing outside the door, a business meeting which from the sound of it wasn't expected to last long, so the Doctor decided it was best to simply wait until the room was empty and they could make their way back to the TARDIS. Rose shook her head, her look one of teasing condescension. The Doctor merely shrugged apologetically and leaned back against the wall. Rose took a similar position across from him, such as it was; there was barely a foot between them.

And for the next several minutes, Rose found herself trying to look everywhere but at him, though what she really wanted to do was use the time to take in every feature, every expression. Get to know him again, in this new face. She'd had lots of time to stare when he'd been unconscious at her mum's flat, but it was different when he was awake. And also more difficult to get a good, long look without him noticing.

But he was noticing now, even though she was trying to be discrete, and guessed what she might be thinking about. Smiling softly, he reached for her hand and brought it to rest on the side of his face. Giving her permission.

Turning pink to the tips of her ears, she had to fight the urge to chuckle aloud at her own foolishness, lest they be heard and discovered. She moved to withdraw her hand when _he_ moved a tiny step closer. And suddenly he was staring at her, as though it was she who had changed. Or as if perhaps she looked different to him now that he was literally seeing her with new eyes.

She gave into the strange and awkward moment, trusting him, and stared right back.

The way he would slightly raise an eyebrow, the way the side of his mouth would twitch, the way his forehead would stretch and relax - the tiniest movements said so much. Learning to read this new face would be like learning a new language. And yet he was the very same man, under it all. Somewhere. Somewhere hard to see just then.

The moment didn't last long. The meeting was breaking up and the room emptying as Rose dropped her eyes, embarrassment returning. But instead of teasing, the Doctor pulled her against him - their first proper hug since he had changed. As though he could sense her uncertainty and only knew one way to reassure her.

And that was where she found her leather-clad, big-earred companion: not in the way HE felt pressed up against her body - that was DEFINITELY different - but in the way that _she_ felt inside when he held her. New clothes, new ears, new arms and all.

Later, back on the TARDIS, after they'd joked about nail polish and she'd admitted how well they fit together, after he'd tucked her into Jack's bed, Rose found herself deep in thought despite her exhaustion, or maybe because of it. Finally, she laughed at herself and rolled out of bed, barefoot, and padded to the console room where her old Doctor would be tinkering.

Her new Doctor wasn't there, and she chided herself for letting it surprise her.

She pressed a few buttons, said an audible "please", and discovered he was in his room. The door wasn't completely closed when she arrived.

"Knock knock," she called out to announce herself as she pushed her way inside.

Rose found the Doctor looking in a mirror affixed to the wall, one that hadn't been there before. "Rose, I think I might be vain," he blurted.

"Rude, vain and not ginger. A right prize, you are," she deadpanned.

"I just never really cared before what I looked like. But now I seem to be fascinated with my own face." As he was demonstrating now, examining his reflection at different angles.

She sat on the edge of his bed and watched him, amused. "Don't you like what you see?"

Her amusement faded immediately when he whirled around to ask, "Do you?"

And back came the thoughts that had been keeping her up. "Is it completely mental that I would feel guilty saying yes?" She frowned, rushed on. "I mean, I know it. I KNOW it's you in there. But I almost feel like... I don't know. I guess it'd be like if mum got married again to a guy that was really good to us. I'd want to like him, but I'd feel like I wasn't being loyal to my dad." She groaned then, a bit disgusted with herself, and allowed her body to fall backwards on his bed, rubbing her eyes in frustration. "This whole thing's completely bonkers. I don't even know what I'm saying."

He sat next to her, where he could still see his face in the mirror. "No, I understand. Kind of sweet, actually."

"Since when do you like 'sweet'?" she teased.

"I guess since now." He sniffed, raised his chin to get a better view. Then he grabbed her arm and pulled her up so she was flush beside him and could see his reflection, too. "So really. What do you think?"

Perhaps he WAS vain this time around. Rose decided to indulge him. "Well, the ears are more reasonable, that's for sure. Bit younger. Maybe a bit goofier."

"Oi!"

"Great hair," she continued, trying to hide a grin when he looked pleased at that observation. "And your eyes... they just look happier. I mean, don't get me wrong. The brooding thing definitely worked with the crew cut and the black leather." She nudged him affectionately. "But it's good to see you smile so much."

Rose soon left the Doctor with his mirror and returned to Jack's room, to his bed. She wasn't quite ready to be happy again yet, feeling guilty that life seemed to be moving on without her departed friend. As she fell asleep she vowed not to let it, not yet. In Jack's honour, and in his memory.

But when the next morning the Doctor came bounding into the room, full of energy and laughter, she had to resign herself to the fact that for as long as she was stuck in a blue box with this ridiculous, impossible man, life was going to move on whether she liked it or not, and she needed to let herself run to keep up for as long as she could. Like there was no time to waste. Like Jack had always lived.


	19. Domestics

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Nine  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place sometime between "The Doctor Dances" (1x10) and "Boomtown" (1x11), and after chapter 13 ("Shift") of this story. No significant spoilers.  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>Jack helps with the domestics.

* * *

><p>Jack and Rose had been in her room for awhile, she painting her nails and he enjoying the brandy-type liquid he'd picked up on a recent excursion.<p>

Jack was an entertaining drunk, extra relaxed and extra flirty. The former was why Rose didn't mind hanging around him when he was soused. The latter was why the Doctor had chosen to excuse himself.

His liver seemed to be holding up fairly well, but his bladder suddenly needed his attention and Jack found himself dashing for her bathroom.

He emerged carrying a small, brightly coloured cardboard box and wearing an annoyed expression. "Why do you have these?" he said in a voice that was definitely accusing but somehow not in a way that was directed at her.

Rose blushed; while she and her mom had always had a very open relationship which had taught her how to talk about anything and everything, growing up without a man in the house had contributed to her always feeling uncomfortable discussing matters of the female anatomy with the opposite sex.

But she was saved from having to try, at least for the time being. He tossed the box on her bed, its contents spilling out. In the time it took to clean up the mess and carefully (with her nail polish not yet dry) chase him to the console room, he'd already given the Doctor an earful; apparently the accusing tone was meant for him.

"If it's that important to you, why don't you take care of it?" the Doctor shot back. "There's a med bay on board somewhere. Surely you can manage a few pokes and jabs."

"It's not exactly my area, Doc. If you're so opposed to living up to your name, why don't you just drop us off somewhere with your psychic paper and some credits, and I'll get her sorted out."

"Domestics," the Doctor was grumbling now, entering coordinates.

"Rose, honey, go get your shoes! We're going shopping!"

"Don't have to tell me twice!"

She and Jack spent the next hour or so... somewhere. At some point in the future. Didn't really matter to Rose, so she didn't bother to get the specifics. Wherever they were, she was having a blast stocking up.

"I am ditching my razors, forever," Rose proclaimed as she marveled at the technology Jack was currently talking up like a salesman. An over-animated, still a bit drunk salesman.

"I should hope so!" he told her. "I don't know how you people manage to not slit yourselves open and die from loss of blood."

"Oi! 'You people'?" she chastised, mostly teasing. "Last I checked you and me were the same 'people', mate."

"Don't get me wrong; before we first met I'd enjoyed a few barber shop shaves - you know, the real classics. But still."

They were moving into the section of the shop that related to his original outburst.

"Wow," Rose couldn't help but comment. "That's... a lot of choices."

"I'm not exactly an expert on the subject, but I imagine any of these would be better than shoving a glorified cotton ball up your -"

"Thank you, Captain," Rose cut him off, blushing again. "I get the idea."

"From what I understand this is really more for people who are interested in getting knocked up any time soon. But we can fake a prescription for the alternatives," he said, patting the pocket where he'd stowed the psychic paper.

"Um, something tells me that people wouldn't be walking around with paper prescriptions in... what year is this?"

"You're probably right. Fancy a trip to a doctor?"

She thought about it a moment. "Seems a bit of a waste, when I have one at home."

Jack grinned at her. They paid and returned to the TARDIS.

Awhile later, Rose sat before a grumbling Doctor in a room she'd never been in before. And while he'd claimed once or twice he wasn't exactly THAT kind of doctor, he seemed to know his way around the medical equipment just fine.

"Ow!" Rose exclaimed, clutching her thigh where he'd jammed in a hypo through her sweats without warning. "What was that for?"

"You were at risk for high cholesterol," the Doctor exclaimed evenly. "Now you're not."

"Seriously?"

"The way you pound back chips, I thought you'd appreciate it."

"Oi, shut up, you!"

"Think of it like a multivitamin."

"So I have to take one every day?"

"Okay, except for that part."

Jack laughed aloud from his spot in the corner where he was reading what looked like a fairly antique book on human anatomy. Rose suspected "reading" was putting it kindly; he was probably looking at the naked pictures.

The original offending issue had already been dealt with, so now, at Jack's insistence, the Doctor was delivering a few medical "upgrades" to his companion. Strengthened tooth enamel, some chemical balancing, a look at a suspicious lump that turned out to be nothing but a harmless cyst, and something to prevent mild bruising later, and Jack was satisfied. He left them to catch some shut eye (it was long past the humans' bedtime by that point), and the Doctor escorted Rose to her room at her request, puttering around while she got ready.

Despite now having alternative options, she still used her old toothbrush.

"Why didn't you offer sooner?" she asked him as she climbed into bed, not at all accusing the way Jack had been when he'd asked the same question earlier. "I don't just mean the birth control or whatever. All of it."

And since her tone didn't make him feel defensive, the Doctor actually took the time to consider. "I don't rightly know," he admitted finally. "Just didn't think of it, I suppose. Not really one to give a lot of thought to domestics, me." As he said this, he was tucking her in, adjusting her pillow and smoothing her hair away from her face. This made her grin brightly. "What?" he inquired.

"Well..." She paused. "It's just for a chap that thinks "domestics" is so unseemly, it DOES seem to come a bit natural from time to time."

The Doctor made a disgusted noise and practically recoiled, as though she'd offended his honour in the highest degree. "See if I tuck YOU in again," he said grumpily.

"Good night, Doctor," she said sweetly, ignoring his ridiculous posturing. "Thanks for today."

He grumbled all the way out the door, shutting it unceremoniously behind him.

Rose fell asleep easily, unworried, knowing that the next night, or perhaps the next, he'd be tucking her in again, reading her to sleep. And if that's what counted for "domestics" around here, he'd had to stop lying to himself eventually, because it was clear to her and Jack that he loved every minute.


	20. Interlude: Covered

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Ten  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place during "Doomsday" (2x13) in the gap before the final scenes. Spoilers for "Doomsday".  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>Jackie tucks her daughter in.  
><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE: <strong>I haven't forgotten this story, and will continue to add to it as the mood strikes. Please "review" and "follow" so I know you're still with me!

Rose had insisted on waiting, insisted through her tears that the Doctor would come for her, that with all of time and space to work with he would find a way back to her. She didn't care if when he appeared he had a different face and different hair and different ways of showing her that he loved her. Whatever sort of man it was that came to her rescue, he would be worth the wait.

The others kept vigil in shifts, played to her hope because there was nothing else to be done, and because maybe they wanted to believe it, too. Five and a half hours, she told them: that was the standing agreement, and she wouldn't put it past her Doctor to come in just under the wire to build the suspense.

Later, long after the appointed time had elapsed, Jackie had to physically support her daughter to get her to the guest room. Rose allowed herself to be undressed like a child, stared with vacant eyes as her mum ran a warm wash cloth over her face and neck, shook her head numbly in a blank response to the questions she was asked about what she might need.

It wasn't until Jackie helped her into bed and moved to pull the covers up around her chin that she roused, sobbed, wretched, and grieved. Because despite her certainty that her Doctor would never leave her behind, she couldn't fully ward off the fear that he might never tuck her in again.


	21. Ages

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Ten  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place just after "The Age of Steel" (2x7). Contains spoilers for "Rise of the Cybermen" and "The Age of Steel".  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>Rose feels embarrassed about acting her age.  
><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE: <strong>I've been rewatching series one and series two this week (hence the inspiration for new chapters), and reviewing the chapters in canon order, editing and updating along the way. While this story is marked as "complete" because as a series of one-shots there is no contained plot to attend to, I assure you that barring unforeseen circumstances it is far from over. There is so much left to say... because some things DO need saying. Thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited, and reviewed! I appreciate your interest and encouragement!

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><p>The night air was cool, but Rose didn't mind; after feeling rather cooped up the last week here at her mum's flat, it was refreshing and comforting to be able to see the stars.<p>

"Where are you?" the Doctor was asking.

"On the roof of the Estate. Hang on a sec." She tucked her mobile in her jeans pocket so she could pull her fleece jumper over her head. Then she lifted the phone back to her ear. "Sorry. Yeah, needed a bit of sky."

"A feeling I well understand. How'd you get up there?"

"Used the door," she told him. "Found out from the landlord's son that the alarm didn't actually work, and thought I'd take advantage."

"Of the lack of alarm, or of the landlord's son?"

"Doctor!" she exclaimed with a laugh. "He's only..." A pause. "Oh. I guess he'd be a year older than me. That's a weird thought."

"In what way?"

"I don't know. I guess... Well, I just feel like I've done a lot of living in that past while. It's unreal that I'm still just 19. Or would I be 20?"

"Let's just say 'no' so I don't get in trouble for not getting you a cake."

It was easier to joke now, a week after a parallel Jackie Tyler had been turned into a Cyberman, a week after a parallel Pete Tyler had walked away from her, very much alive but very much not her father, a week after HER Mickey Smith had chosen to stay behind and fight for a world that wasn't even his own.

A week after she'd sent the Doctor away so she could take some time home with her mum.

She'd felt so silly actually asking for it; certainly the request had sounded more reasonable in her head. She'd thought that her decision was driven by her realization that Jackie had no one but her, but something in the Doctor's eyes when he agreed and said goodbye made her feel like a five year old with thumb in mouth, crying for her mummy. And that night as she laid her head on her mother's lap while they watched TV together and she relaxed under Jackie's comforting touch, Rose realized maybe that wasn't far from reality.

After all, from the moment she'd seen her father's picture in the ad, she'd reverted back into a level of childishness that embarrassed her now to even think about. She'd become moody and brooding, running off, refusing to listen to the Doctor at every turn. Not that it was the first time, but usually she'd catch herself and turn things around rather quickly. Not so in this case. Amazing how bringing her "old life" into the mix had such an effect on her.

They'd decided before he left on his return, and she'd made him swear up and down that no matter what it took he would get there on time. She hadn't expected to hear from him in the meantime, so had been pleasantly surprised when the very next evening her phone had rang. And then the next evening, and every evening after. They didn't speak for long, just a few minutes of reconnection as he encouraged her to recount her days but skirted her questions about his own. They still hadn't talked much about their experience in the other world, and of that, Rose was rather glad. Besides, she'd told her mum all about it, and the older woman, who'd obviously known her her whole life, knew just the right questions to ask to make her admit and own things the Doctor never would.

"So, Mum said you can come for brunch before we're off," she told him. "Around 10:30, if you think you can manage."

"Oh, I think I can manage."

But his voice wasn't coming from her phone. She whirled around to see him standing with a manic grin, obviously quite impressed with himself. He opened his arms and she stepped into them easily.

"You're back!" she exclaimed, relieved. Apparently some part of her had been afraid he wouldn't return when they'd planned. "How did you get up here?"

He twirled her around before releasing her. "It's a bit timey-whimy, but let's just say we've had this discussion before."

"What?" And then she clued in that he'd called her from the TARDIS phone. With a wide grin she held her mobile back to her ear. "You still there, Doctor?"

A familiar voice answered back, "I guess I'll see you on the roof." Laughing, he hung up.

"You just think you're so clever," Rose teased the Doctor, the one standing in front of her.

"I AM so clever," he assured her.

She let that one go. No sense arguing with the facts. "So, how long exactly have you been away?"

"A week, of course! Aren't I on schedule?"

"And a day early, which is great given your track record." Rose would never let him live down his rather notable mistakes in that department. "But I mean, how long has it been for _you_?"

"Oh, you know. A while. Had a few adventures, saved a few planets, got knighted, got married, the usual."

"Right," she said, rolling her eyes. "Really, though. How long?"

"You know it's hard to completely pin down that kind of thing."

"What are you hiding?"

"Nothing!"

"Liar," she accused, forcing him to face her. "Come on. You're making me nervous. What did I miss?"

"Nothing, I promise. Really." He rubbed the back of his neck, squirming under her scrutiny. "If you MUST know..."

"Yeah?" Were his cheeks turning pink? It was hard to tell in the low light.

"Fine. It's been about three hours."

"Three..." Rose relaxed, and a warm feeling came over her. "Three hours. So what, had a shower, had a cuppa...?"

"And talked to you."

He quickly moved from being embarrassed to being ridiculously pleased with himself when he recognized _her_ pleasure.

"So the opposite of the first time."

"Quite."

When he'd told her the truth about all that had happened between his offers of "space" and "time", countering her assumption that he'd only been gone a few seconds before she made up her mind to travel with him, she'd laughed with delight and then spent the rest of the day acting extra affectionately toward him. Apparently the idea that he'd had several rather incredible adventures on his own and then still decided to come back for her, that he'd had ample time (and space) to rethink his invitation and still wanted her with him, made her feel rather inclined toward the warm and fuzzies.

But now, seeing the look in her eyes, he realized that his implied admission that he no longer had any desire to adventure without her had just as much impact.

They spent some quality time on the roof together, and it was after 11 when the Doctor followed her into her mum's flat. He puttered around the kitchen a bit while she prepared for bed, and though he tried to be quiet apparently he wasn't quiet enough.

"There's himself," Jackie greeted, hair mussed from sleep and her body shrouded in a ratty dressing gown. "Early at that." It would have sounded like an accusation if she wasn't planting a smacking kiss on his cheek. "But don't think you'll be sweeping her away. I've got food for brunch in. You can have my daughter at noon and not a minute before."

The Doctor held up his hands as though in surrender. "Just popped in to say hello," he assured her. "I'll give her a quick tuck-in and be on my way."

"On with it, then. You know she's a bear if she doesn't get a solid seven hours."

"Hear, hear."

They shared a friendly smile as though this common knowledge united them somehow. She patted his arm, called out a "good night, sweetheart" through the closed bathroom door, and went back to bed.

The Doctor made his way to Rose's room, for the first time really taking a good look at the pictures on the walls and stuck to the edges of her mirror. Some were recent, and some were of him, which made him smile. But some where of a much younger Rose, posing with family and friends. He was struck by how innocent and carefree and unencumbered she looked. Was it simply time that had changed her, or had it been him?

Then Rose was there, hugging his arm, leaning on his shoulder. "You feeling vain again?" she teased, implying he'd been examining his own reflection.

"I never stopped," he teased back. "Think I need a haircut."

"I'll do it tomorrow," she promised, pulling him over to the bed and, with his help, getting settled under her covers. "So, you gonna just pop ahead and meet us at brunch?"

"Thought I'd best just stick around for the night. To avoid any accidental overshooting." He was only half kidding.

"A wise decision," she agreed with a grin. "Maybe you'd best get some sleep. I'm well rested and ready to go; you may not be able to keep up with me."

"That'll be the day." He clicked off her bedside lamp, the room still dimly illuminated by the light coming in from the hallway. "I guess I'll be off, then."

"Wait." She reached out and grabbed his wrist, holding him back, tugging so he'd sit on the bed. "I've had some time to think this week, and I was wondering..." The darkness was making her brave, but she still hesitated before asking, "Does it ever bother you, that I'm just 19?"

"Or possibly 20," he pointed out glibly, and she dropped his wrist to poke him. "What's brought this on?"

She was extra glad for the darkness now, because she was sure she turned 17 shades of red when she admitted, "Sometimes I act like such a child, and I can't quite figure out how you stand it."

"Because I'm so old, you mean."

"Well, you are over 900. That age gap isn't getting any smaller." They both chuckled, and then she continued. "What I mean to say is, I'm sorry, I guess. That you have to see me when I'm acting -"

"- your age?" he finished for her. "You've got ages to grow up. Don't rush things along on my account. God knows I've tried to avoid it. I mean, have you SEEN me? I've got NO excuse. You're just 19."

"Or 20," she added, feeling less silly now. "Anyway, I guess I just wanted to thank you for putting up with me when I act that way. You must feel like a babysitter sometimes."

"Well, you are rather prone to wander off. Maybe I should get you one of those little animal knapsacks that has a leash for a tail."

"Or at the very least a GPS tracking system," she joked at her own expense. "I've actually been thinking of getting one of those for you."

"Probably not a bad idea." He arranged her covers around her shoulders, then brushed her hair from her forehead, a tender gesture. "Rose Tyler, let's just leave it at this: you put up with me when I'm acting immature, and I'll put up with you. Frankly, I'm fairly certain I've got the better end of that deal."

"Some days, I'd have to agree."

He stood and bid her goodnight then, returning to the TARDIS where he did in fact get some sleep, but not before he was inspired to prove her right.

The next morning at promptly 10:30, he arrived to enjoy brunch with the Tyler women. But at one point when Jackie stood up to retrieve something from the counter, the Doctor, winking at Rose, placed a whoopee cushion on her chair. The prank successfully completed, Rose and the Doctor were in stitches while Jackie, less amused, gave them a lecture about how they both needed to grow up.

The Doctor grabbed Rose's hand under the table, giving her fingers a squeeze. The message was clear: Not if they could help it.


	22. Undead

**CHARACTERS:** Rose(/Ten), Jack  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place sometime before "Partners in Crime" (4x1). Contains mild spoilers for seasons 1-2 of Doctor Who, the premise of the Torchwood series, and the events of "Stolen Earth" (4x12) and "Journey's End" (4x13).  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>Rose's first stop on her journey back to the Doctor finds her reunited with an old friend.  
><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE: <strong>In the "Tucked In" universe, we see a close relationship form between Jack and Rose which does not fit with their reunion in "Stolen Earth". Now it will. :)

* * *

><p>Jack had experienced all kinds of feelings about the men and beasts and treasure and trash he and his team had collected and hunted during his time with Torchwood: fear, disgust, surprise, shock, confusion, excitement. But when Rose Tyler appeared right over their heads as though out of nowhere and Ianto's exclamation had brought him to the monitors to investigate, it was pure joy that ripped through him, hurtling him from his chair without an explanation to his colleagues.<p>

Rose felt nothing. At least, not in that moment. The shock to her body of the dimension cannon's first successful jump had knocked her out. When she came to, however, her own feelings were so mixed she couldn't have defined them.

Because it was Jack Harkness standing over her. Her friend. Her DEAD friend. Which meant, she was sure, that this must be Jack before they had first met. Her muddled mind started racing. Jack had never mentioned this encounter; she was definitely a stranger to him when he'd rescued her during the air raid back during their World War II adventure.

"Are you okay?" he was saying, helping her to her feet. "Are you hurt?"

"I don't think so." It was all she could do to keep from throwing herself into his arms.

The fact that she WASN'T in his arms made Jack falsely assume the same thing that Rose did. And thus they were both struck rather dumb, not sure what could safely be said or done to avoid making any real impression, so that someday the other would happen upon their "first" meeting with no inkling it was really their second. Really, they were each trying to determine how to get the hell out of there before something was done that would mess up their whole timeline.

Vomiting probably wasn't the greatest option, but suddenly Rose had little choice. As she staggered over to a bin, retching and heaving, Jack was right there with her, holding her hair, reminding her of another time when she'd gotten a little space sick and instead of his characteristic teasing he'd been so sweet and kind and considerate.

Then as suddenly as it began, it was over. Jack helped her over to a step and eased her into a sitting position.

"Thanks, mate," she offered, leaning over to put her head between her knees, not quite having to feign vertigo. And then they fell silent again.

Finally: "Is there someone I can call for you? Can I drive you to the hospital?"

"Really, I'm fine now. Just need a bit and then I'll be on my way." That was true. It had taken a few minutes for her to come to, and several more had passed since. If she didn't report in, her team would be bringing her back "home" after 20 minutes. At least vomiting had been one way to stall.

"Okay. If you're sure." He knew he should leave her, but it had been such a long time, and he knew he could never see her again, not the "her" that he knew. "Then I guess I'll - " he gestured vaguely.

"Yeah, 'course," she said, too quickly. "Thanks again."

He was standing in front of her, avoiding her eye, hesitating. And then abruptly he thrust out his hand. "Glad to be of service."

But when she grasped his fingers, something caught his eye despite the darkness around them, and he wouldn't let go. "This scar," he said, almost accusing, pointing with his other hand. "Where did you get it?"

And suddenly Rose thought she was going to be sick again, but for a very different reason. The scar, a small line running along the side of her index finger, had been caused by him on one of their more childish adventures. Childish, but cherished, which is why she never allowed the Doctor to remove it. There was no other reason why Jack or anyone else would remark on such a minor imperfection. "Jack?" Her voice caught, her eyes filling with tears.

"Rose," he breathed, pulling her up and towards him, crushing her against him.

"I thought you were dead," she cried into his neck. "How did you get away?"

"It's not important. And maybe someday I'll tell you the story. But not today." He held her back at arms length, examined her thoroughly, looking for clues. "We need to be careful."

She knew immediately what he meant; while they were now free from the pressure of messing up their first meeting, as time travelers there was always the potential to change things that shouldn't be changed when you hopped into someone's timeline out of order. The TARDIS had safeguards against this, but the dimension cannon most certainly did not. And considering what she was here to do, it wasn't worth the risk. "You have no idea. But that doesn't mean we can't do what we do best."

And so that night they found their way to a hotel, since Jack didn't want to bring her anywhere that might later make a difference. They got take out, rented movies, and tried to forget all of what they WEREN'T saying. And when Jack returned to bed after a shower and properly tucked her in, curling himself around her like he had done so many times before, it took everything in him to not demand answers when she vaguely revealed - as though unable to help herself - that something was coming.

Rose wasn't there when Jack woke up - that had been part of their agreement. But if something was coming, whatever that SOMETHING was, he knew that he'd be around to see it arrive, and would do everything he could to find himself right in the middle of it. And so while he could feel the ache in his heart for his long lost friend returning, a familiar ache even though it had dulled over the centuries, he allowed himself to take some small comfort in knowing that for better or for worse, he would see her again.


	23. Brilliant

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Ten (Duplicate)  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place just after "Journey's End" (4x13). Contains spoilers.  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>Second chances.  
><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE: <strong>Lots more to say in both directions, and I will continue to update whenever the mood strikes. "Follow" to... well, follow!

* * *

><p>Arrangements had been made quickly, and within an hour of their unceremonious abandonment on Dårlig Ulv Stranden, Jackie, Rose and the Doctor were in a hired car and being driven to where they'd catch a private plane back to London.<p>

But that hour of waiting had been perhaps the most terrible and wonderful of Rose's life. Certainly the most confusing.

As the TARDIS left, Jackie had walked away, ostensibly to make arrangements from her cell, but it was obvious she kept her distance much longer than she needed to. For as long as she could she addressed neither of them, going about her business in her own Jackie way.

As for Rose and the Doctor, who had years to recover and decades to plan for, they found themselves unable to form words, to string together sentences that would say what needed to be said, that would avoid what shouldn't be said just yet, until they were on solid footing.

Rose turned toward him, looked up at him, holding loosely to the hands that held her own, lazy tears tracking down her face, matching his. Her mouth opened, shut, opened again, and then she shook her head, helpless.

The corners of his lips turned up in a tiny smile that didn't reach his eyes and he nodded, almost imperceptibly, with a clear meaning of "I know. I understand." And so they were silent. Rose placed her hands on his chest, stepped into him, rested her forehead on his shoulder. Numb.

Finally Jackie returned, and after explaining what was to happen and pointing in the direction they needed to head to meet their ride, she too was struck by the enormity of what had occurred and let them have their peace, though it was starkly against her nature. She walked ahead of them, resolute and setting a strong pace. Anxious to get home to her son and husband, trusting her daughter and the Doctor to sort things out to her liking without her needing to meddle too much.

The Doctor clung to Rose's hand as though he was afraid if she let go it would be the end of them, of him. A drowning man with his life preserver, maybe. A man who had loved and lost that was now back with the object of his affections, certainly. But also a man whose impressive brain was awakening to the changes in his less impressive body, whose sense of time seemed askew, whose heart was now pumping for two, whose lifespan had been drastically reduced, whose new TARDIS would take years to grow. No wonder he held on so tightly; she was the only thing in this life that hadn't changed.

Except of course that she HAD changed.

It was a 25 minute walk to the service centre and convenience store by the parking area, quiet now in the off season but still getting its share of patronage from the nearby village and travelers on the scenic route. Rose remembered it from the last time she'd found herself in Norway, on this beach, though that day she hadn't entered as her parents went in to grab coffee and sustenance for their long trip home. Because the Doctor had burnt up a sun to say goodbye, and she was sure she'd never see him again. It was no time for food and drink.

This time was different. Rose was famished after having a hand in saving more than just one universe, and yes, the Doctor had said goodbye once again, but he was also right there with her. And rather famished himself.

And so they ate, and drank, and waited for their ride to show up while Jackie answered questions and offered pictures and stories of Tony, of Pete, of her new and happy life here. Offered nothing of Rose's life that wasn't directly connected, asked nothing of the Doctor, sensing that her role in that moment was simply to give the two stunned and brooding souls sitting opposite her something to focus on that wasn't their own thoughts or the perceived thoughts of the other. Playing her role well.

When the car arrived, the Doctor opened the front door for her. After a pause, Jackie put a hand on his elbow and leaned in kiss his cheek and say quietly, for his ears only, "I'm so glad you're here, sweetheart. We'll do everything we can to help you build a good life, with us." Pulling back, she watched his eyes grow moist and then drew him into her arms, giving him a motherly squeeze. "Come on then, you lot", she said more loudly, "Let's get this show on the road."

Jackie chatted away with the driver while Rose and the Doctor maintained their relative silence in the back seat. Rose felt physically heavy from the weight of the situation, from the weight of years of collected stories and feelings she was aching to share with him, from the weight of the crazy grief she was feeling as she mourned the man who had walked away and yet was holding her hand now, stroking her fingers, watching her when he thought she wasn't looking, and then even when she was.

But this wasn't the time. Not with her mother just a few feet away, not with a stranger in the driver's seat. Not when she had no idea where to start or how to end, or what would spill out in between. As it was she was just barely holding it together, grateful that she was managing silent tears and avoiding a total retching, sobbing, relieved breakdown.

Because whatever else was true about this situation, whatever terrible things had led to it, whatever terrible choices had been made without her consent, he was HERE, and he loved her.

From the car to the plane, where they mercifully dozed and nothing needed to be said to fill the huge silence between them. And from the plane to another car, this one driven by Pete Tyler, who greeted the Doctor with a warmth that made him misty-eyed again. He dreaded the thought that perhaps this is what his future was to be like - tearing up at every kind word. There were worse ways to live, he supposed. But if he was to be less of a man than he was, he wished he could have the dignity of a stiff upper lip when it was called for.

Pete, at least the Pete of this world, was a pragmatic sort, and had already come up with a million ideas on integrating the Doctor into this universe. But he sensed that the Doctor and Rose were both overwhelmed and chose to share only what was needed for that night: A room had been prepared, and he was to stay with them for as long as he liked.

"Longer than that, even," Jackie had piped up, reaching back to touch the Doctor's knee fondly. "I know you'll be stir crazy within a minute and you two will be taking off to see the world, and likely save it once or twice. But you'll be needing a place to come back to. And you'll have it."

Damn. It really was his fate. The Doctor blinked quickly to stop the tears from falling.

Tony was already asleep when they arrived home, and Jackie was half-way there, so it was tea and toast and then bed for everyone.

The Doctor showered for a long time, letting himself feel his skin reacting to the heat in a way it hadn't before. Everything would be new for awhile.

Like his modesty, apparently. Which he discovered when Rose entered through the unlocked door just as he was turning off the water, greeted him with a casual sounding "hey", and then started to lay out the supplies and borrowed pajamas he would need. When he didn't emerge right away from the shower, she had to ask. "You okay in there?"

He poked his head out from behind the curtain to see her watching him, her expression unreadable. "Umm... could you...?" he began, wrapping a towel tightly around his waist and wishing he had a robe.

"Nothing I haven't seen before," she couldn't help but tease.

"Actually, you haven't," he said matter-of-factly, biting the bullet and stepping out, despite the fact that she hadn't turned away. "New model, remember? May need a few tweaks before it gets rolled out."

"That's all Donna, I reckon. I've never known you to have a self-conscious bone in your body."

He almost smiled at the mention of his dear friend, and then felt himself on the verge of weeping once more as he thought about what he knew must be happening to Donna, if it hadn't already. What his counterpart would be forced to do. He shook his head to clear it, and tried to focus on Rose's instructions.

"These'll be big, but they'll do for tonight," she told him, gesturing to the pajamas. "We'll get you some clothes of your own in due time. Toothbrush, paste, floss. And I raided one of the cabinets to get you some tablets, all different kinds." She smiled with a touch of pity. "For the tweaks."

Probably not a bad idea. He could already feel a dull ache behind his eyes. From exhaustion, perhaps. He'd learn to understand and read his body soon enough. He hoped.

"Thanks."

"Yeah." A beat. "So. You get ready. I'll just be out there. Ready to tuck you in."

No, the ache was from all the crying. It got worse in that moment, as he felt himself tearing up at the thought of all those nights when he'd tucked HER in. And later, when he was sure he'd never have the chance again.

He couldn't hide it, and she couldn't help but tease again, "Sentimental now too. That can't be Donna, can it?"

"Nah, must have been some particles of you swimming around in the mix," he was able to tease back, because her tears were already falling. "You always were a bit of a mush-pot."

She stuck out her finger, pointing it square at his chest. "If you weren't naked..." she warned.

"If I wasn't naked you'd be squeezing me for dear life; admit it, you old softy. Now why don't you let me get less naked, so we can get to just that."

And so there was no pretense, when he emerged from the bathroom dried and dressed and exhausted. There wasn't even the question. She tucked him in, and tucked herself right in beside him.

"We'll need to find a new book," she mumbled into his shoulder after the wave of emotion that had rolled over them both had crested and flowed back out to sea. After they'd both decided, without consulting the other, that they had a lifetime to say the important things that needed to be said, and that tonight, just holding and being held was more than enough.

"Oh, Rose Tyler. We'll need to find a new everything. And it's going to be brilliant."

And in that moment, they were both sure it would be.


	24. Interlude: Sonic

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Ten  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place during the chapter "Ages" of this story, between the time the Doctor meets Rose on the roof and when they return to her mother's flat.  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>Rose wants a promotion.  
><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE: <strong>Still here! Thanks for your continued interest in this story!

Rose had brought an old comforter to the roof for extra warmth, planning to spend some time under the stars as if to reorient herself before returning to them. Now it had a new use - laid out under them both as they stared up at the sky. His overcoat was folded as a pillow they shared, heads touching as they talked and reminisced animatedly, and made plans for their next adventures.

When Rose grew quiet, the Doctor knew she had something on her mind. "Out with it, then," he encouraged glibly, reaching to find her hand which squeezed his in answer.

"How come you never let me drive?" She laughed aloud at herself for the way it had been blurted, following so soon her apology for acting her age. "Not quite what I meant; let's try again." She took a moment to reorder her thoughts. "I was just figuring that if this is it for me, you know, that maybe it might be time for you to actually show me how some things work." He seemed to be mulling, so she hurried on. "I'm not saying I want to be able to take the TARDIS out for a spin on my own. Just that I want to be able to help when things are going wrong. And maybe be a little more independent at home."

The Doctor grinned, as he always did when she referred to the TARDIS as "home". Grinned impossibly wider, really, because he was already smiling like a fool at her basically saying that life with him was what she planned on, and nothing more. He'd been a little worried when she'd gone back to Jackie for the week, though now felt silly about it. Of course she would stay with him. Of course she would.

All he said to her was, "Well, then, Rose Tyler, let's begin!" He tugged her upright by the hand that still held hers, then dug the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and slapped it into her palm.

Rose was an engaged and enthusiastic student when it came to subjects that mattered to her, and the Doctor of course loved to teach. He also loved to watch her concentrate, struggle, and then delight in her own success.

He also loved that she wasn't afraid to fail. It was only a small and easily extinguished fire she'd accidentally started, after all, and once it was under control she laughed without blushing. "Perhaps I'd best stay away from that setting all together," she told him, tongue in teeth.

"Maybe not a bad idea," he agreed, his eyes alight with mirth and affection.

It was coming on 11 when Rose announced, "I think that's all the information my brain can hold tonight if I expect any of it to stick."

"Fair enough." He slipped on his overcoat and then gathered up the comforter, wrapping it around her shoulders. "I'll walk you to your mum's. Make sure the landlord's son doesn't come looking to take liberties."

"You've got better toys, by far," she teased as she slid her hand inside his jacket to return the sonic to it's pocket. "He doesn't stand a chance."

"So THAT's why you stick around!" he teased right back, catching her hand briefly against his chest. "Here I thought my charm had been enough."

"Don't worry, Doctor. Teaching me the sonic bought you some time." She coyly turned from him and led the way to the door of the roof, tossing him a look over her should. "Teach me to drive and I'm yours forever."

He wasn't sure about putting her "behind the wheel", so to speak. But he wasn't worried about losing her - not in that moment at least, as he ran to catch up and her fingers found his, his hearts full of affection and hope. Barring something completely out of their control, he already knew she was his forever.


	25. Twelve

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Ten, Rose/Twelve, Clara  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place sometime (for Rose/Ten) before 2x13 ("Army of Ghosts") and before the chapter "Still" of this story. Mild spoilers for "School Reunion".  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>The TARDIS avoids a paradox, and the Doctor - the twelfth Doctor - receives an unexpected gift.**  
><strong>**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **My favourite Rose/10 fanvid on YouTube is "Doctor Who- Ten/Rose- A Thousand Years" by Anni Wainwright. I encourage you to look it up and watch it after reading this chapter.

* * *

><p>It wasn't until their second day together that the cards were unexpectedly laid on the table by both parties, nearly simultaneously.<p>

Rose found the Doctor laying on the floor, tied wrists and ankles, his back to a wall. He beamed when he saw her, but she put a finger to her lips in warning. She knelt beside him and slipped a hand inside his jacket, going for the sonic screwdriver. His eyebrows raised, and his smile grew impossibly wider. But footsteps could already be heard approaching; there was no time. "Like the night after the factory," he told her quietly, and she nodded, immediately understanding the instruction and grinning wildly herself even as tears sprung to her eyes.

Later. She had to get out of there before she was discovered, and she had work to do.

The Doctor was completely unworried as he watched her leave. After all, he already knew she would succeed in freeing him, in freeing Clara, in stopping the Big Bads and getting them all to safety. She'd told him as much herself, many MANY years ago. Though apparently she'd left out some of the details.

Of course she had. He knew it would be himself who would warn her to do so, when they parted ways. It was the responsible thing to do.

Two hours later he was free, but had his own part to play in completing their little mission. He would meet Clara and Rose back at the TARDIS, where he'd sent them. He only hoped she would let them in.

The TARDIS did that and more. "Hello, gorgeous. Did you miss me?" Rose greeted unnecessarily. The TARDIS was positively humming as she stepped inside. "Wow, nothing's changed at all."

"Actually, things have changed quite a bit," Clara countered, looking around in confusion. "The old cow's redecorated for you, apparently."

"Oi! You shouldn't talk to her like that!" Rose laid a hand on the console. "So, you know who I am?" They hadn't had a chance to speak since the Doctor had order them to run.

"Are you kidding? The famous Rose Tyler? It took him centuries to shut up about you."

Rose flushed with pleasure, remembering her wish after meeting Sarah Jane, that she wouldn't be forgotten and never spoken of again. And then quickly followed the pain of realizing how much it must have hurt him to say goodbye.

"How many faces, then?"

"Just two, since your last. But a long time. A thousand years, give or take a few hundred. This is a new one, relatively. Still breaking it in." Clara smiled fondly. "You should have seen his last go - Oi, he was ridiculous. Floppy hair and bow ties and YOUNG." She dug for her mobile. "Here - I've got pictures."

"Oh, me too, if you want to see," Rose offered, reaching for her own.

"Actually, I've met your last one, briefly. The one with the hair and the "sand shoes". Not yet, for him, not if he's still travelling with you. But I'd love to see the one before, if you have some snaps."

And so the girls spent the next while going through photographs, Rose talking freely, the safety of sharing the past. Clara was more guarded about the big things - responsible of her, in case Rose were to let something slip - but broad with the minutia, the laughter, the feelings.

Then: "Was it hard for you, when he regenerated?" Rose asked. "I mean, it's obvious you fancied him, despite the bow ties."

Clara blushed. "It was different for us than for you, I imagine." For a moment Clara pictured her Doctor's stooped form and wrinkled face, near the end. "Extenuating circumstances to say the least." She paused, thoughtful. "But yes, it was difficult. Even though I knew all about regeneration, had met some of his other faces. It hadn't prepared me for..."

The TARDIS door opened.

"...Him."

The Doctor was distracted only for a moment by the appearance of the old "desktop". Then his focus was entirely on her. "You bloody liar," he accused.

The women stood to their feet, Clara confused and glancing at Rose, who looked no less than delighted.

"You're going to go home and spin me this story of your big adventure here," he continued, striding forward, circling her, "and have me feeling JEALOUS about your new boyfriend!"

"Well," Rose responded, tongue in teeth, "I am NOW."

"Yeah, yeah. Spoilers." And then her arms were around his neck and he felt a thousand years slip away. "How long have you known?" he questioned quietly, holding her against him and lifting her from the ground for a moment.

"Pretty much since you opened your mouth. You haven't changed THAT much."

Clara felt a stab of guilt. After he'd regenerated, she'd felt like she barely knew him anymore. And she could tell by the look on his face that it meant the world to him for Rose to have recognized him so quickly.

In truth, Clara barely recognized him now, at least not THIS him. Because he didn't hug, and yet he was clinging to Rose like he would never let her go. And then when he finally pulled back to look at her, he rested his forehead against hers, hand on her cheek, wiping her happy tears.

"Rose Tyler."

Clara felt like an intruder. "I'll leave you guys for a bit, let you catch up."

The Doctor glanced at her gratefully. "No. We'll... take a walk. Rose shouldn't be here."

"But the TARDIS was happy to see me!" Rose countered.

"Yes, I see that. But if you're here much longer she'll get a stomach ache," he simplified. "Best say goodbye to Clara, then."

The women embraced, and Rose whispered, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For taking care of him for me."

Clara just gave her a squeeze. If only she knew. And then she watched them leave, watched Rose slip her hand into his as though it were the most natural thing in the world, watched him let her.

Outside the TARDIS, Rose suddenly realized how cross she was with him. "I feel like we wasted so much time. Why didn't you just tell me?" she asked, slapping his arm.

The Doctor had convinced himself that Rose didn't know who he was, and had told Clara to treat her as a stranger. He remembered meeting up with her all those years ago, finding her happy and bouncy and full of stories. And when he'd made the connection between then and now, he was sure that she'd had no idea who she'd met, that it was HE who she was describing with such interest and affection.

"When you leave here, when he comes for you, you're going to tell him all about your time here, and about Clara and me, and you're going to convince me that you think we're just some random people, new friends. As you should." He squeezed her hand. "Now I know you're just a way better liar than I've ever given you credit for."

"You learn something new every millennium, yeah?" she teased.

"And why didn't you tell me you knew?"

"Because I knew you were you. But I didn't know if you were the past or the future. And when you acted like you didn't know me... I wasn't about to take the risk of seeing history rewritten all around me." She smiled at him sweetly. "I rather like our history."

"I suppose we had some good times," he agreed casually. "Saved the universe a bit. Had chips."

"I'm surprised you remember. Clara told me you're an old man now."

"I was always an old man," he countered, dropping her hand, leaning against a tree so he could face her. "But were you always this young? Good heavens, I really did rob the cradle with you, didn't I?"

Tongue in teeth again. God, how he'd missed that.

"And what about Clara? She can't be that much older than me," she teased.

"Ah, that's different, though. Apples and oranges. Besides," he announced rather proudly, "I'm a married man, now."

"Oh, really?" This was interesting. "Anyone I know? Or will know?"

"Spoilers," he told her cheekily. "After your time, my dear. No need to turn green about it. It never was a good colour on you."

She made a face, stuck out her tongue, and grabbed his hand again, continuing their walk.

"You - he - said the TARDIS wouldn't land."

"She was avoiding a paradox, because Clara and I were already here. He never should have left you here alone in the first place."

"You mean YOU shouldn't have?"

"Fair enough. Anyway, I - he - they're going to pop ahead to when it's clear."

"And when will that be?"

"Soon, if I remember correctly." He sighed heavily. "As it should be. After managing for the last two days, it would be a shame to mess up the timeline now."

They were silent for a moment, walking slowly. The Doctor was gripping her hand tighter than she imagined he realized, almost to the point of pain, but she wouldn't have it any other way.

They came to a clearing with a little fire pit and picnic area, and he stopped her. "This is where I picked you up. You'll make a fire here, and when I arrive you'll tell me to break out the marshmallows." His expression grew wistful, and he looked at her fingers in his. "And you're going to hold my hand even as you tell me all about the mysterious man you just had a grand adventure with, and make me half crazy hearing it." He gave her a look of mock disgust. "You could have mentioned the grey hair and the prominent eyebrows. It might have softened the blow."

"'Prominent'," she repeated. "Is that what we're going with?" She tugged him down to sit next to her on the makeshift log bench, dropping his hand and looping an arm through his instead. "Still not ginger," she realized suddenly. "What a sin. Not now or when you were all bow ties and suspenders. Got to say, I'm not altogether upset I missed that faze. Sounds like you were a handful."

'Bow ties and suspenders' would have been indignant. 'Prominent eyebrows' rather agreed, but said, "You would have managed just fine, I've no doubt."

They chuckled, then fell silent again.

"There's so much I want to ask," she said finally.

"I know. But you'll get not one word from me." His tone was serious, but the statement was more directed at himself than her. Steeling himself. Because as much as she wanted to know, he wanted to tell her even more.

Her head came to rest on his shoulder. "And there's so much I want to say." Then she was crying again, and the Doctor wasn't sure what to do about it. He never seemed to know how to react, not since he wore this daft face. He was always getting it wrong with Clara.

But this was Rose, and maybe having her there was helping him remember parts of himself he thought he'd lost.

He wrapped her in his arms, pulled her against his chest, and managed to say just the right thing: "Rose Tyler, I can't tell you what's going to happen, but I can assure you that in the time we have together, you say everything that needs saying."

And then she's laughing, thoroughly relieved, drying her tears on the arm of her jumper. "Good."

They talked for awhile longer, but then the sun was setting and the Doctor knew it was time.

"Do you even know how to make a fire?" he asked her as they got to their feet and threw a few sticks into the fire pit.

"Not even a little. Unless you count that time you were teaching me how to use the sonic on my mum's roof and things got a little... out of hand."

They both smiled fondly at the memory. "I made some adjustments after that, in case you ever snuck it from my pocket and decided to attempt self-improvement."

"And did I?"

"Not to my knowledge. But there is a setting that should do the trick." He tossed it to her, gave the instruction, and in no time there was heat, then smoke, and then flame.

She passed the screwdriver back to him, her hand lingering on his when she placed it in his palm. "This isn't goodbye for me," she told him, thinking out loud.

"No, I don't suppose it is."

"But it is for you." Her hands went to his chest, feeling his hearts beat, feeling his heavy sigh. "Is there anything YOU want to say?"

He looked away. His mouth opening and closing, wordless. His arms restless at his side.

When he finally met her eye, he was surprised to see her smiling. "Some things really don't change. You're still rubbish at saying it." Then her lips were on his, not quite chastely, and she embraced him with a fierce tenderness he couldn't help but return. "Doctor, if it's any consolation, some things really DIDN'T need saying."

He pulled back to hold her face in his hands once more, as though memorizing again the features he had never forgotten. And then he let her go. Walked away. Didn't look back.

Rose had a few minutes alone by the fire, and allowed herself to feel his pain, wallow in it, grieve for him, for what they had and had lost in a way she'd yet to find out.

But then she heard the familiar whooshing sound, watched the TARDIS materialize about 20 feet away, saw the manically grinning man with the great hair and the tight suit poke his head out the door and then come running full tilt, lifting her into his arms as though from his perspective he hadn't just left her two minutes ago. The first words that tumbled from her mouth were, "Do we have marshmallows?" And she just couldn't be sad anymore.

X-x-X-x-X

"Fire's nearly out," the Doctor stated unnecessarily sometime later. "Ready to go?"

"Just a little while longer. I like it here. Good memories." Standing, she gathered some more fuel and tossed it on the waning flame, but the wood must have been damp and wasn't easily catching. Returning to her seat, she slipped a hand inside his jacket and pulled out the sonic, choosing a setting and pointing it at the fire, bringing it back to life.

He took the instrument from her and confirmed the setting. "Rose, how did you know how to do that?"

She gave him a wistful smile, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and said, "Make me another marshmallow and maybe I'll tell you someday."

Of course, she never would. Spoilers.


	26. Shared

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Nine  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place just after 1x10 ("The Doctor Dances") and sometime before the chapter "Jack" of this story.  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>After acting like children, the boys get a lesson in sharing from Rose.

It had taken a little convincing on Rose's part to gain Jack an invitation to travel with them. They'd popped into the time vortex on their way to stage the rescue, and Rose had ask the Doctor to linger there during their conversation, giving them, literally, all the time in the world rather than trying to rush in "real time" before the bomb Jack had brought aboard his ship would explode.

She made one logical argument: "It was a rather heroic act; wouldn't you say he deserves a bit of a 'thank you'?" (To which the Doctor had countered, "I've done more heroics than he could even dream of, but you don't see me looking for a pat on the back.")

The rest of her convincing was a little more subjective: "It'll be a laugh" and "You'll have someone ELSE to be impressed by all your heroics" and "It doesn't have to be forever" and, the one that finally got to him, "Please?"

With much grumbling, he'd relented. "But don't expect me to pick up the pieces after you two are done _dancing,_" he'd demanded with special emphasis.

Their earlier discussion of "dating and dancing" had quickly become metaphoric, and certainly revelatory for Rose. Not that she wasn't aware that the Doctor was a man - albeit not a human one, despite his outward appearance - but there was something so DIFFERENT about him that the idea of him being affected by the baseness of..."dancing"... had always seemed ridiculous. And while she still believed he _was_ different, the fact that he'd admitted to having romantic, or at the very least sexual, relationships in the past definitely humanized him a bit more in her eyes.

"Dance card's full, thanks," she told him, tongue in teeth. "So why don't you get some music going and we'll show him how it's done?"

And so Rose and the Doctor had been doing some non-metaphoric dancing when Jack had entered the TARDIS for the first time, and eventually, again amidst the Doctor's grumbling, they'd allowed him to join in and give each of them a spin.

The Doctor was humanized all the more in the days to follow as the boys seemed to engage in an all-out pissing match for Rose's attention.

It had begun almost right away. Rose had volunteered to get Jack settled, and after hours had passed and she hadn't come to find him the Doctor grudgingly went off in search of her. The room she'd chosen for Jack was comfortable, clean and non-distinct, and a hair closer to hers than the Doctor fancied, though that could be fixed easily enough. The door was open, and the two of them were on the bed, gabbing and laughing as though they'd known each other for years. When Rose looked up at the Doctor with a happy grin and scolded him for being late for the party, he merely huffed and said, "Suppose you'll be wrapping this up any time soon?"

"Got somewhere to be, Doc?" Jack asked good-naturedly.

Rose knew he was here to collect her. They'd recently developed a bedtime routine that they'd become rather fond of, and apparently the Doctor wasn't going to let the new guy get in the way of it. "We both do," Rose told him with a smile, getting to her feet.

"Am I invited?" Jack's face was hopeful.

"Not a chance," the Doctor said firmly before Rose could open her mouth to say otherwise.

So off they went to read together before he tucked her in. Score 1 for the Doctor.

The following afternoon had found her standing between the two arguing time travelers as they disagreed on a tactical decision that would send them in opposite directions. Eventually it was decided that each man who carry out his own plan, but then their focus turned to Rose and she had to choose who she would join. The trouble was that the decision had to be made in a hurry and neither of her companions was giving her a moment to think as they talked over each other. Finally she silenced them by throwing her arms around the Doctor and whispering "Don't do anything foolish" in his ear before grabbing Jack's arm and taking off in a run. Her decision turned out to be the right one: the Doctor had managed things on his own just fine but Jack had definitely needed an extra pair of hands. But when they met up again later the Doctor was moody and it was obvious (to Rose at least) that the way he laid into Jack about the "chain of command" was about more than who was in charge. And the Doctor insisted on reading a few extra chapters that night.

The next day's adventure went smoothly enough with everyone cooperating and more or less getting along, mostly because Jack made it a point to follow the Doctor's lead. But when the boys started telling "big fish" stories with the clear goal of impressing her and Rose deemed the Doctor to be the winner, Jack got a little pissy about it and compensated by pouring on the charm, which annoyed the Doctor to no end, at least when Rose seemed to enjoy it. And when they returned to the TARDIS and Rose accepted Jack's invitation to go for a swim rather than the Doctor's to turn in early, his annoyance only grew. When Rose tracked him down later in the console room and said it was time to read, the Doctor told her he was busy and sent her to bed.

The last straw came at the cinema not long after. Things had went a little sideways during a day which had been weird and wonderful and completely out of control to begin with, and Rose had dug in her heels and demanded a night of normalcy to balance it out. As her companions had little context for the word, she'd landed on "Let's go see a show. I don't care where or when, or even WHAT, as long as there's popcorn and sticky floors." And so they went, and she sat between them happily with a huge tub of popcorn in her lap and a smile on her face.

Until the popcorn was gone. Then the tub was set aside and she had her hands free.

The Doctor made a comment close to her ear about the film and she chuckled and rewarded him by squeezing his fingers with her own. The noise had caused Jack to glance over and when he saw that Rose's hand remained in the Doctor's he apparently took it as a slight or a challenge. In a very smooth move his own hand landed on her knee.

The Doctor leaned across her lap and essentially told Jack to keep his hands to himself. Jack countered with a "you're one to talk" and a wink at Rose as his hand moved to thigh. The Doctor had something to say about that and forgot to whisper, and Rose's final "Enough!" garnered shushes from every side. Exasperated, she gestured to them to follow her out of the theatre, which they did glumly, knowing they were about to get it with both barrels.

When they re-entered the room only seconds later through a different door, the countenance of all three had completely changed. They calmly returned to their seats and finished the movie without any further unpleasantness.

This of course was made possible by the 20 minutes they'd spent in the TARDIS with Rose getting her men sorted out.

"I thought it might be flattering, having two blokes fight over me or whatever this all is supposed to be," she told them, having sat them down beside each other in the console room and standing in front of them. "But yeah, it really isn't. I'm thinking this probably doesn't even have a lot to do with me."

Either or both might have jumped in at that point, but she'd already made it clear during her annoyed preamble that they were to keep their mouths shut.

"So this is how it's going to be: I'm going to spend time with whoever I want whenever I want, and if you two want to whip them out and measure you do it own time and leave me out of it. Clear?"

The men glanced at each other, as though deciding whether the question was rhetorical. When they looked back at her expectant face they figured it wasn't. "Clear," they mumbled together.

"Also, I have two hands, and there's two of you. And frankly I can't see either of you really fighting for a monopoly, so can't that be enough?"

Rose wasn't surprised when she saw Jack's face light up and his mouth open to say something completely inappropriate. When the Doctor elbowed him in warning, he concluded rightly that it was to rescue him and not to chide him. He nodded his thanks and simply agreed.

"So, Captain, I'll make sure this one" - she gestured to the Doctor - "doesn't toss you out anytime soon, providing you make SOME effort to behave. That means we'll all have lots of time to get to know each other. Alright?"

Jack only blinked, wondering if the comment was meant to be innocuous or whether she had really picked up on his fear that if he didn't win her over quickly his third wheel standing would find him ousted any day. It had been a long time since he'd been able to be himself and not be alone, and now that the chance existed he'd gone overboard trying to hang onto it in the only way he'd known how.

"And you, Doctor, don't tell me your mother never taught you to share, because you've been sharing all of time and space with me and doing just fine." It was only then that her authoritative demeanor finally dropped. She couldn't help but look at him fondly. "Does the rest need saying?" Judging from the way he beamed at her, the answer was definitely "no".

"Kiss and make up then, you two," she joked, and before the Doctor could react Jack had planted a wet kiss on his cheek. The Doctor gave him an exaggerated glare of disgust, and grumbled about Rose picking up strays as he went to the TARDIS controls and returned them to the theatre.

But neither complained when Rose held BOTH of their hands as they finished the movie. And when they leaned over her again to talk and their banter earned another "shush" from those around them, it was a plot hole and not a petty disagreement that prompted it.

It occurred to Rose that she'd requested a trip to the cinema for a taste of something normal. But as she snuck glances at her Captain from the future and her ancient alien in turn, she realized nothing might ever truly be normal again. And as Jack returned her glance happily and the Doctor gave her fingers a squeeze, she felt that if losing normal meant gaining this life and sharing it with these friends, she hadn't a thing to complain about.


	27. Enough

**CHARACTERS:** Rose/Ten (Duplicate)  
><strong>SETTING: <strong>Takes place not long after 4x13 ("Journey's End") and immediately after the chapter "Brilliant" of this story. Spoilers for "Doomsday" and "Journey's End".  
><strong>CHAPTER SUMMARY: <strong>What came next.

* * *

><p>"Enough," the Doctor mumbled, as though the sun that fell across his face like it was trying to coax him awake was something that could be reasoned with.<p>

Everything hurt. No, not "hurt"; that wasn't right. ACHED. His head, his legs, his back. His stomach, too, though that seemed to just be hunger. And his bladder, if a bladder COULD ache.

His heart, though - that was "hurt". Stabbing, throbbing, wrenching hurt. Tears left eyes that hadn't yet opened, and his chest burned as he fought to contain a sob.

But what a difference less than a day had made. Because with the tears came intense anger, at the Daleks, at himself, at his other self. Anger over the loss of Donna that led to anger at his exile (even if he'd agreed to it), anger at the changes to his body, his brain, anger at the world, this and the one he'd left. So much anger. Seething, near-explosive rage.

In the end it was the smell of her hair that brought him down. Freshly washed, floral scented, tickling his face as she crawled over him to lay down atop the covers.

He knew his counterpart had been right, hadn't resented the implication that he couldn't be trusted, needed to be controlled, tempered. Needed Rose. Because he was the Doctor too, and so he knew the same things as the other, thought the same way.

But at the same time, once the rage subsided, he took a moment to be surprised by its intensity, by just how right they both had been.

And he took a moment to be relieved that simply the smell of her hair effected him so greatly.

"You awake, Doctor?" Rose inquired softly. It was nearly noon, and while she'd slept in too - less an old habit and more a necessity and reward after the stress of saving not just ONE but ALL the universes - she had already showered and dressed. "You'll be getting old now, remember. Best to be out and about before your hair starts thinning."

The Doctor's eyes flew open then in not-quite-mock terror.

"Hadn't considered that one yet, had you?" she jested affectionately when she turned her head on her pillow to see his reaction. "It'll be a shame, I admit. But your hairline should have a few good years left in it. Shall we make the most of them?"

"Rose, I am so very sorry," he said with sly sincerity, craning his neck to meet her eyes.

"What for?" she questioned.

"For all of the times I made a joke about your sleeping habits. If this is what it feels like to be human, I don't understand how you ever get out of bed."

She beamed at him, not quite sympathetic. "You'll get the hang of it soon enough, but not if you don't get up."

It was his bladder more than her encouragement that saw him stumbling to the bathroom, though not before spinning a strand of her hair around one of his fingers. "Pink and yellow. God, how I've missed you."

Rose was obviously taken aback, unused to a Doctor that would so easily blurt out his feelings. But she handled it smoothly, likely due to being so well rested. "Flattery will get you everywhere... but only AFTER you get out of bed."

When he returned to the room washed and back in his borrowed pajamas, she was sitting on the bed not in the least bit convincingly feigning nonchalance. While the Doctor was struggling to make his senses cooperate in ways they once would, all he needed were his eyes this time to see she was a nervous ball of energy. But he knew her, and knew what she needed.

"I suppose I'll need to go shopping."

Yes, indeed. He knew her. She was on her feet in a flash and ready to roll. "Pete had your suit sent out for dry cleaning first thing, rush job. I hung it in your closet. Get dressed and I'll meet you downstairs!"

The suit fit him of course, and it would have felt good to be back in somewhat familiar garb if he could have shook the feeling that his SKIN didn't quite fit. Not in the literal sense, but in a way that regeneration had never affected him before. As he looked in the full length mirror, hoping that seeing himself from the outside might help put his insides to rights, he jammed his hands in his suit pockets rather sullenly...and found them empty.

"Rose!" he called all the way down the stairs, more than a bit panicked.

He found her in the kitchen, cutting up a banana for his cereal, unconcerned and knowing exactly what was causing his meltdown. "Sit," she told him, gesturing to the table where she'd laid out the contents of his pockets earlier that day. "Dad emptied them out before your clothes went to the cleaners. And I was doing inventory."

The piece of TARDIS coral wasn't the only thing he'd been worried about, though it had certainly been at the forefront of his mind. Back in the TARDIS, when Rose had been saying goodbye to Mickey and the other Doctor had been busy with Jack and Martha, Donna had pulled him aside and started loading up his bigger-on-the-inside pockets like a care package. "The TARDIS will make him another," she'd said as she'd tucked in the sonic screwdriver she'd asked to "borrow" not long before. Followed by trinkets and gadgets and remembrances, indicating that she'd had some time to think and gather, must have deduced the plan before he and his counterpart had "discussed" it during a little telepathic pow-wow that had taken place without anyone realizing.

Donna.

"Here." Rose was handing him the bowl. "Where'd all this stuff come from? I've never even seen you wear this jacket, have I? Do they come... I don't know, "pre-loaded"?"

He couldn't. Not just then, not just yet, not without returning to sadness or anger or whatever else might overcome him.

"A story for another day," he told her in no uncertain terms. And it scared her a bit, reminding her of the way that her leather-clad Doctor had often spoken to her in the beginning of their time together. Different voice, but same tone, same emotion behind it.

And then her fear turned to realization. Was this what they had meant about him needed her like he had then? Had she really changed him so much?

"Fair enough," she conceded. "Eat your cereal. You want a coffee?"

"I want ALL the coffee, I think. I'm all muddled and -" He coughed, and shouldn't have been surprised when regeneration energy left his lungs.

"You were breathing out that stuff all night," Rose told him. "Made me want to peek out the window a few times looking for 'pilot fish', just in case, but I figured that wasn't the usual regeneration goings-on. " Then she eyed him critically. "All in all you seem much better than your last go. But should I be offering you tea instead? Mum actually asked me that this morning."

The Doctor couldn't help but share her smile at the memory. "I think I'll be done 'cooking' soon," he assured her. "Where is your mum, anyway?"

"Dad took her and Tony off somewhere. Thought you could use some space today. Even told the house staff to make themselves scarce."

"A good man, your dad."

"He is." She sat down beside him, mugs of coffee now before them both. "He really is. And even though it's been awhile now, sometimes it still seems so mental. Because he's NOT my dad. But he IS. Or maybe he's just become my dad. I don't know." She nudged his shoulder with hers. "I was so furious with you for trying to make me go with them. And the fact that it happened by accident was probably a good thing, because I never would have forgiven you." She was misty at the memory of the day she'd reaffirmed her choice to never leave him, only to be rescued by Pete at the last moment before being sucked into the void. "But it was a gift, to be here with mum, to get to know Pete, Tony."

The Doctor had turned to face her, leaned in as though they were sharing secrets in a crowd, rested a hand on her thigh that she covered with her own. "I'm so glad. That's the life I wanted you to have. Safe, with your family."

"Liar," she accused with a sad smile. "That was just you playing the tragic hero. You wanted the same thing I did: you and me, time and space."

"The Doctor and Rose Tyler, in the TARDIS." A memory, and an admission. "And now look at us. The stuff of legend indeed."

She kissed him them, or maybe he kissed her - it was hard to say. It lasted only a second, lips barely touching, but it felt like the moment had been sealed. They parted with grins, suddenly lighthearted and hopeful as they finished their breakfasts while each was dreaming of a future that could take them in so many different directions.

The direction for the day was clear however - the closest shopping mall. Hand in hand they roamed, unhurried, as he coaxed from her the first bits of her life story since he'd seen her last. Rose tried not too revel in the fun she was having dressing him; after they'd gotten him fitted for a few suits, she'd insisted that casual wear was non-negotiable. He grumbled until she found him the perfect pair of jeans, and then his vanity took over.

"I look good," the Doctor pronounced, meaning it.

Though it had been a few years since she'd had to deal with it, Rose was unfazed by his lack of humility. Besides, he wasn't wrong - the dark jeans that fit "just so", the tight grey tee, and the zip up hoodie definitely suited him. Still, now that they were likely stuck in one place for a bit, now that he wouldn't be able to simply flit off after being his ridiculous and sometimes offensive self and would actually need to maintain some relationships, she thought she'd be doing him a favour to remind him of the niceties. "It's not a bad look for you, but you DO know that guys who KNOW they look good and act it generally get labelled as twats."

Apparently the effort hadn't been worth it, because he either didn't really hear her or was choosing to ignore her. "These jeans are amazing!"

"Oh, brother."

Once clothing was dealt with they dropped their packages at the car and he dragged her to first an electronics store and then a hardware store to search for things that could be built and adapted with his sonic and the other bits and bobs that had been tucked away in his pockets before leaving the TARDIS.

"Where will we live?" the Doctor suddenly blurted. The sales person that had just approached to ask if they needed help heard the question, saw Rose's face, and turned away without a word.

"Wherever we'd like, I guess," Rose answered, casually as she could. "I had a flat but I was working so much I let it go. When I'm around I've been staying with mum and Pete, mostly for Tony."

"We should have our own place. Until the TARDIS is ready." He beamed then, remembering. "We'll have to get a mortgage after all!"

Rose couldn't help but blush. She'd felt so foolish that day back on the impossible planet, essentially suggesting that should they be stuck together on the slow path they could pull off domestic bliss, as though that might be something he'd want. "Pete's loaded," she pointed out. "He could buy us a hundred houses."

"Well, that seems a bit excessive. I think one will suffice." And then he was back again to filling the shopping cart and talking in his mile-a-minute way about all of the technological improvements he thought he'd be able to manage in their new home, as though the matter were settled.

It was on the drive back to her parent's house that it occurred to her, "You know, we don't _have_ to get a house, mortgage or no."

The Doctor had been dozing in the passenger seat, his new body betraying his energetic mind. He opened his eyes and looked at her intently, frowning. It honestly hadn't occurred to him that she might not want to set up house with him. That he might have to be alone.

Apparently the human part of him made his expressions much more readable. When they stopped at a light she took a moment to glance his way and saw he looked positively stricken. "Doctor, I didn't mean - " She gave his fingers a pitying squeeze before returning her hands to the wheel and her eyes to the road. For all his genius he tended to be a bit thick when it came to matters of the heart, even though until very recently he had two of his own. "I just meant you spoiled me, during our adventures. Since then I haven't been able to handle the thought of settling down. It's a big world, and so much more is different about it than I even imagined."

Another glance and she saw he'd clued in to her meaning, and was warming to the idea. "May not be all of time and space, but I guess a whole new universe will have to do."

"And all of time and space will be waiting for us soon enough."

"In the meantime, we'll make brilliant tourists."

"And if we happen to save the planet once or twice..."

"Well, that's to be expected, isn't it?" Now he was beaming again, brimming with excitement. And when he opened his mouth to start planning their itinerary... a huge yawn escaped instead. "Bollocks."

"Welcome to the human race, Doctor. Where whether you're saving the planet or just doing some shopping, you're bound to fancy a nap here and there."

"I know I used to tease you for all your sleeping in, but I'm now convinced I didn't give you enough credit."

"You'll get used to it, I promise." She smiled fondly. "Though I forbid you to sleep your life away. You've only got one now and I'm not about to let you waste it."

While his body was technically new, his mind, full of over 900 years of memories and experiences, was conditioned to view life through a lens of having untold years to come. The idea that time could truly be WASTED, that he only had a few good years left, it should made him furious. It should have dismayed him. Broken him.

So how was it that the challenge of making every fragile, fleeting, finite moment with her truly COUNT felt at least just then - when her thigh was warm under his palm and he could still smell her hair and she was real and whole and they were TOGETHER - like enough? "Oh, Rose Tyler. That is one thing you needn't worry about."


End file.
